Let's Get This Show on the Road
by Tobi'sgoodgirllovesSasuSaku
Summary: Join the newest incarnation of Altea's boy band Voltron as they work together to take down the monopoly Galra Records has the industry. It won't be easy, and there will certainly be shenanigans, but Allura is pretty sure that they have what it takes. A series of one shots updated when there's inspiration. Genre's will change depending on story.
1. Auditions

Peeking from around the corner, dark grey eyes took in the massive crowd chanting his stage name, some waving signs and glow sticks. He could feel his pulse fall in rhythm with the chants, entire being growing in sync with the energy of the crowd.

 _Cham-pi-on! Cham-pi-on!_

A hand clasping his shoulder brought him out of the spell. He turned to look at his stage manager, a smaller man wearing glasses looked up at him. Despite the disheveled appearance his mop of brown hair gave him, the grin that lit up his face showed that he was anything but tired.

"You ready to rock Shiro?"

"Always Matt," Shiro replied, returning the infectious grin with one of his own. Matt nodded, pulling a radio to his mouth and speaking stage directions into it. Shiro took one more deep breath and stepped out onto the stage, heading for his mark in the middle. A hush slowly came over the crowd as, despite his best efforts to be quiet and unseen, some saw the movement of shadows across the stage and signaled to their friends to be quiet. As he reached the mark, grasping the mike stand in his hand, he could feel the energy that had been quietly building all night bubble beneath the surface, begging to be let free. Even if the company he worked for was nothing short of monstrous, he couldn't deny himself the thrill of the performance; of going onstage and making something beyond explanation happen.

" _Ladies and gentlemen, are you ready?"_

The screams and shouts that responded caused a smile to grace Shiro's lips. He readied himself into the opening stance, heart paused in its beats as he waited for the start of the music. That was probably the worst part of performing, out of all of it: the anticipation. But as he heard the bass line start and felt that rush as his pulse began to pound, he knew that he wouldn't have it any other way.

" _Then give it up for…The Champion!"_

Light flooded the arena as Shiro's voice rang out, his rich baritone intertwining with the music that his band produced behind him seamlessly. He leaped forward, leaning down with the mike stand in his arm; fans reached out towards him, clamoring amongst themselves for a chance to maybe get sweat on by _the_ Takashi Shirogane, aka Galra Records' Champion. He reached out, fingertips just barely brushing hands as he walked down the stage, flashing each and every one of them a smile. Many began fanning themselves; he thought he even saw one faint, falling backwards into the crowd. He straightened up, cutting a sharp turn as he strutted back to his mark, pointing out towards the crowd as he moved. As he got closer to the mark he pivoted, feet immediately smoothly transitioning into a moonwalk back to the 'x' that marked the floor. He ran his fingers through his forelock, dyed a shocking white in comparison to his jet black hair, tossing the hair back with a slight jerk of his head.

Shiro couldn't see them due to the blinding lights on stage, but he knew that he had whipped his fans into a frenzy. Matt always told him that anytime he played with his hair in any way, half the audience would lose their minds and the other half would feed off the energy; he had even used a mathematical formula to prove it. Shiro had playfully teased him about it afterwards, asking how one even goes about _creating_ a formula to calculate that, much less getting accurate data. But, he knew he had somehow; he was Matt Holt, genius stage manager of Galra Records, able to do incredible things with the outdated equipment that they gave them.

Shiro's foot tapped along with the beat, the lyrics to the second verse pouring from his mouth as easily as breathing. They had performed this set so many times by now that everything was second nature; Shiro could have easily just let his mind wander during a show like some of his coworkers. But that never felt _real_ to Shiro, never felt _genuine_ , and if there was one thing Shiro was going to do, it was give his fans a real genuine show. So Shiro let the emotions and neurochemicals wash over him, bathing in it as he bared his very essence to the people standing at their seats. He never looked at a show as just a way to make money and get famous; he always looked at it as an experience, and tonight he was going to make sure was a good one.

The bridge was coming up, and with that Shiro took the mike off the stand and stood in front. The critics were always amazed at how a man of Shiro's size could move their body so fluidly and quickly as they danced, as if every minute twitch of his muscles was planned. He always responded that it was through his strict training regime enforced by Zarkon, but it did help that he loved the hip-hop variant that they practiced. It was mainly his feet and hips that moved during performances, a blur of fluid and sensual movements, but it required his entire body to be under his control at all times.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Shiro could see various stage hands getting everything together for the final rendition of the chorus. Matt had excitedly told him all about it on the bus; how, even though the equipment was old, he figured out a way to rig some pyrotechnics into the show. Flames were supposed to shoot upwards from the ends of the stage, a "fiery end to his fiery performance" as Matt said. He knew Matt had been wanting to do pyrotechnics for a while, but every time he had put in an equipment request form they had been denied. Finally, it seemed they were given the greenlight, albeit a very old one, but they weren't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

As Shiro struck his final pose and the last notes rang out, pillars of flame erupted at the sides of the stage. He could hear the collective gasp of the crowd through the pounding in his ears; the anticipation was always the worst part. But it was all worth it when the deafening roar of the crowd slammed into him, pulling an exuberant smile from his face. He gave a slight bow before walking back to the mike stand, placing the mike back where it belonged.

"How are we doing tonight Garrison county," Shiro called out, working to keep the breathlessness out of his voice. Cheers and screams were his only response, "Sounds like we're doing alright; must've put some of you to sleep."

Above the roar of the crowd disagreeing with him he could hear a few fans saying that he could _never_ put them to sleep. "Huh, guess my hearing must be going then. Because, you know, when people are doing _great,_ they give a way better response than that."

For some reason, it always took a second jab at the crowd to get a deafening roar of approval and positivity and, like clockwork, he was greeted with what they assumed to be a response indicative of feeling _great_. He laughed at that, the sound caught by the mike and echoing throughout the arena.

"Alright, you've proved your point," He said, raising his hands in defeat, "We've got a great show for you tonight; I'm really excited to share it with you. So, without further ado, let's-"

No one was really sure what he was going to say next though, because the next sounds were panicked screams coming from both the crowd and the wings. Shiro startled, glancing over to the side where he knew Matt would be, only to see him staring up into the rafters, the glint of fire reflected in his glasses. Shiro looked up just in time to see the lights come crashing down upon him, the ropes holding them there burned off because of the fire.

* * *

"Stupid grocer and their stupid plastic bag tax," A young man grumbled, arms full of various groceries without bags. Some plastic bags, filled almost to the point of dangerously bursting, hung from his arms, with mail clasped in between fingers. He shook his head, long black hair moving out of his face as he stood before the apartment door. He sighed, swiftly putting the mail in his mouth before maneuvering to his pocket for the keys; he fiddled for a moment before finding the right one. Inserting it into the lock, he pushed his body weight into it, opening the door with a loud bang and a muttered curse.

"Phiwo," He began, before spitting the mail out onto the table by the door, "Shiro, come help with the groceries!"

Slowly a man came to the entryway, dressed in a loose-fitting black tee and gray sweatpants. His forelock was still dyed a stark white, but a scar ran horizontal across his nose. He reached out for some of the groceries, his robotic prosthetic right arm brushing against the plastic bags.

"Keith, you do realize you can make two trips right," Shiro asked, carrying the items into the kitchen. Keith rolled his eyes, following right after him.

"And you do realize people who make two trips are pansies, right," Keith retorted, readjusting the items that he was left with. He noted that Shiro had elected to take the items in his arms, leaving him with the plastic bags that were currently leaving indents in his pale skin. He glared at Shiro's back as he followed him into their kitchenette.

"Hey, I make more than one trip," Shiro called back, looking over his shoulder. Keith smirked, finally having a chance to set the bags down.

"I know."

"Brat," Shiro muttered, placing items away into their rightful spots. Even before his accident, Shiro had had a very particular way to setting up the kitchen and where each type of food should go; now, unemployed and dealing with the aftermath, it seemed to have gotten worse. Keith let it slide however, as he only ever set foot in the kitchen when Shiro wasn't feeling up to making anything and they had nothing left for ordering take-out.

"So what did you do all day," Keith asked, electing to ignore Shiro's insult as he walked over to the table where the mail sat. He grimaced slightly at the damp spot where his teeth obviously dug into the envelopes, "Watch 'Price is Right' and tell kids to get off our lawn?"

"Hilarious."

The corner of his lips tugged upwards as he sifted through the letters. Rent was due soon, as were the utilities, cable and internet…Some more take-out menus, and a sale paper that Keith could have probably _used_ earlier today, _damn it_. But what caught his eye was an envelope appearing to contain a card; on closer inspection, he saw that it was written in an elegant script, as if the writer had practiced calligraphy their entire life. What was even more interesting was that it was addressed to _Shiro_ , who hadn't received a card since his parents decided to send him one from Japan along with a care package. He dropped the other mail back onto the table, fingering the envelope as he made his way back to the kitchen.

"Hey Shiro, looks like you got something."

Shiro paused in putting away various non-perishables in the cupboard, regarding Keith over his shoulder. "Who's it from?"

"Dunno," Keith mumbled, squinting at the envelope as if it the sender's name would magically appear, "Return address is local though, if that helps."

Shiro took the letter from Keith's outstretched hand, muttering a quiet thanks. Carefully he ripped open the envelope, pulling out a folded piece of paper from inside. He could tell that the letter was handwritten, as some of the ink had begun to bleed through the page and left dark splotches on the other side. He felt more than saw Keith peer over his shoulder as he unfolded the letter and began to read.

 _Dear Mr. Shirogane,_

 _I apologize for the mysteriousness of this letter; I feared that if I openly wrote who I am, you would have thrown it away without hearing my proposition. But, if you are reading this, then allow me to state my offer._

 _My name is Allura, and I am the director of the Altea Recording Company. It is alright if you haven't heard of us; we are admittedly small company, consisting of myself and Coran, a close family friend. I am writing to offer you an opportunity to meet with me this Monday at 9 am at the return address, with the hopes that you will be willing to begin employment with us. After what has occurred to you under Galra Records, I understand if you wish to reject my offer by either refusing to show up or coming to refuse in person. But know this: You are not the only one Zarkon has harmed in his quest for power, nor will you be the last. If you wish to fight against him, to put a stop to him, then please consider my offer._

 _I await your response,  
Allura_

"You're being offered a job."

Shiro nodded, swallowing past the lump in his throat. "It looks like it," He croaked, fingers tightening their grip at the edges of the paper. The letter had brought back hundreds of memories, both good and bad, with only two eloquently handwritten paragraphs. The long grueling hours, the rush of the performance, the harsh diets they enforced, long hours spent talking with Matt about everything and anything, and…and the _accident_. Being pinned underneath burning stage lights, Matt running out from the wings to try and help, waking up in an unknown hospital without a right arm, Matt coming to visit but looking so haggard and _guilty,_ attorneys coming into the room, hundreds of pages of legal documents all saying the same thing: _Leave quietly and maybe we'll help_. It wasn't until Keith grasped his attention by putting a hand over his that Shiro realized he had almost ripped the letter in half, arms trembling from the exertion.

"You don't have to meet her."

"Heh, didn't you tell me last week to 'get out more'," Shiro weakly attempted at the joke, giving Keith a smile which looked more like a grimace. Keith's brow furrowed even further, blue-grey eyes shining with concern and worry.

"Not if it's going to hurt you," Keith replied, "This is different than going to join a book club with a bunch of PTA moms."

"I know," Shiro sighed, grip relaxing on the letter, "But she mentioned stopping Zarkon. Keith, you don't understand how he treated me, the other artists…. how he treated _Matt_. I owe it to them to at least see what Allura wants before I make my decision."

Quiet filled the room, the kind of silence that gives the air a tangible weight that seems to press on you from all sides. Shiro could see the gears of Keith's mind turning behind his eyes, the scales weighing each and every response with a meticulousness reminiscent of a chemist. Keith may be brash and impulsive but, when it came to Shiro's health, he was always treading so carefully through the minefield, always cognizant to give gentle nudges in the right direction; a joke about watching game shows here, mentioning how the flowers were blooming in the park there…small things, prompts to try and guide him back to the life he had before Galra. Some days, when the memories followed him like shadows, Shiro was grateful that Keith never tried to push him beyond the limits that he had set for himself. But on the nights when Keith collapsed on the couch exhausted from work, or when he stared longingly at a photo taken at the college that he had dropped out of in order to help Shiro, Shiro wished that Keith would come barging in, screaming and crying in a manner similar to when he fought through security to see him in the hospital, and tell him to _get off his ass and fucking_ _ **do**_ _something_.

"I have to do this Keith," Shiro reiterated, mind already set. He would go and talk with Allura, consequences be damned; maybe he would even accept the offer, if only as a way to get petty revenge on Zarkon.

Keith sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine; but I'm coming with. Can't have you wrecking my bike on your way there."

"You're letting me drive Red?"

Red was a bright cherry red standard motorcycle that was one of Keith's few prized possessions. As a result, Keith was fiercely protective of it, refusing to let anyone come near it lest they wished to retreat with broken bones. Fondly Shiro remembered the first time he saw Red, and how Keith had viciously slapped his hand away when he instinctively reached out to touch it.

"I'm sure as hell not letting you take the bus," Keith shrugged, "Besides, I'm only letting you drive as long as I'm with you. Take it or leave it."

"Thanks Keith," Shiro replied, placing his left hand on Keith's shoulder. "It…really means a lot to me."

Keith's features softened into a rare appearance of gentleness that was only ever directed at Shiro. He placed his own hand on top of Shiro's, giving a reassuring squeeze, fingers slotting between Shiro's. As Shiro returned the smile, a thought flitted across his mind; he frowned, eyebrows knitting together. Keith's own expression hardened instantly with worry, head tilting slightly to the side.

"Shiro? What's wrong?"

"How exactly _did_ you bring all the groceries back on Red?"

* * *

The days after the arrival of the letter seemed to fly by, and in the blink of an eye Shiro realized that it was the morning of his meeting with Allura. Apparently when one has something to look forward to and plan for, the slow march of time picks up tempo. Although, he mused as he sped down the highway with Keith clinging onto him from behind, considering that he hadn't really remembered how he got onto the bike it was most likely something far less optimistic. Before Shiro's mind could do any real damage to his mood, he decided to actually acknowledge his surroundings as he weaved through cars.

The weather had decided to cooperate, providing sunshine and bright blue sky as far as the eye could see. The sky was peppered with the fluffiest looking clouds and, off to their right, the tops of tall buildings. Those buildings, Shiro knew, belonged to the city of Arus; a small city, mostly known for its surrounding beautiful parks and lakes, but certainly a hub of activity once you arrived. It helped that in the dead center was the university, allowing for the city to expand and come to life around it. Both he and Keith had attended there for their aeronautic program, before Shiro had been picked up by Galra and ultimately the accident occurred. Since then, he personally hadn't been there, though he could faintly recall Keith mentioning going into the city sometimes.

"Take this one," Keith shouted into his ear, above the roar of the wind and Red's engine. Shiro nodded, properly signaling and getting off the highway, easing off the throttle as they cruised down the ramp. They rolled to a stop at a light, giving Shiro a moment to look over his shoulder at Keith.

"What's after this?"

"Uh…it's saying go straight, then take a left at Golion street."

Shiro nodded, head turning just as the light went green. He jerked the bike forward, chuckling slightly as he felt Keith flail behind him before desperately latching his arms back around his middle. He could feel the muffled curse being muttered into his back, the light jab into his stomach at the sudden movement. All of it reminded him of simpler times, when the two of them would go off campus for rides on Red for the simple sake of exploring for exploration's sake; of days spent shirking off studying in favor of going to their favorite coffee shop across town just because it wasn't on campus. Despite the cool whip of the wind, Shiro felt himself warm up at the memories, lips lifting up into a smile.

"Oi, you're gonna drive past it!"

Shiro snapped out of his reverie, slowing the bike down as he noticed that he had successfully turned onto Golion Street. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Keith point towards a white building on the left; he pulled up to the sidewalk across from it, parking the bike. He smoothed out his clothes, black vest slightly wrinkled from having crouched over the bike and from Keith's grip. He took off his black helmet, tossing it to Keith as he ran his fingers through his hair, working to make it look presentable instead of like it had been underneath a helmet.

"Well," He asked, turning around to face Keith. Keith set the black helmet down on the back of the bike, head tilted to the side as his eyes roved over Shiro.

"You're a little rusty on the park job, and you didn't give me a warning when you started the bike, but other than that, you did alright."

" _Keith_."

"You look fine," Keith gave a small smile, "And you'll be fine. But if anything seems fishy, or you just want the hell out of Dodge, shoot me a text and I'll be right over."

"And if _you_ somehow manage to get into trouble while I'm here, you shoot me a text and I'll be right over."

"You're going to be like, an hour max probably; what the hell can I do in that short of time?"

"I can think of ten separate occasions."

"That's definitely an exaggeration since I can only think of three."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night Keith," Shiro conceded, turning towards the entrance of the building. He tossed his hand up in a final departing gesture before pulling the glass doors open and stepping inside.

While the outside of the building was a pristine white with blue accents, the inside appeared a bit more dated. There were still blue accents on the walls, but instead of standing out against a brilliant white they were painted against a shade of grey. The furniture in the lobby was a mixture blue and white, in a style that while may have been modern during it's time of interior decorating was certainly outdated now.

"Ah, you must be Mr. Shirogane!"

Shiro's attention was pulled to the lobby's main desk, where the Australian accented voice had called from. There saw a man with hair the shade of orange found in a sunset, mustache the same shade. Underneath his oddly purple eyes were blue tattoos, looking as if they were meant to frame the eye. Shiro stepped forward to the desk, feeling a wave of self-consciousness crash over him.

"Um, Shiro is fine. And you are…?"

"Oh, where are my manners," The man replied, reaching out and grasping Shiro's prosthetic in both hands. He continued on, ignorant of the way Shiro stiffened. "The name is Coran; Allura told me that she mentioned me in her letter to you. I'm the company's receptionist, PR manager, nutritionist, and mechanic!"

"That's…quite a lot of different jobs." Shiro replied, returning the enthusiastic handshake before slipping his arm back to his side.

"Oh well, we don't exactly have a lot of staffing," Coran mentioned, waving his hand dismissively. "But don't worry about me; despite my age, I'm still as sprightly as any young spring chicken!"

"I can see that." Shiro said, feeling a smile form on his face despite himself. Coran's energy and upbeat mood was certainly infectious; if he found that he wouldn't mind working closely with him.

"Now, go off and have a seat over there, and I'll let Allura know you've arrived." Coran pointed over to some seats. Shiro nodded, heading over to the seats and sitting; he felt himself sink into the cushions. He glanced over to the pile of magazines to his left, noting that similar to the style of the furniture they were incredibly outdated. Still, he pulled one out, casually flipping through it; there might actually be information that he didn't know in there. He wasn't sure how much time passed, but in the middle of an article about some celebrity marriage he felt his phone buzz. He pulled it out, unlocking it and smiling as he saw that it was a text from Keith.

 _Everything going alright?_

He typed out a reply, not noticing that the front door had opened. _Yes mom, everything is going fine. Go back to drinking your latte._

"Mind if I sit here?"

Shiro glanced up from his phone, mouth ready to reply when he suddenly felt his heart stop. The person standing in front of him, with their ruffled brown hair and light brown eyes staring at him from behind glasses, looked so _familiar_ ….so similar to Matt that he felt like he couldn't breathe. But…no, this wasn't Matt; they were shorter than him, and Matt wouldn't wear such a baggy green and white shirt or cargo shorts. Well, okay, he would _definitely_ wear the cargo shorts, but they wouldn't be as baggy as they were on this person. But if this person wasn't Matt, then why did they look so familiar? It certainly wasn't….maybe…?

The person in front of him coughed, snapping him out of his thoughts and forcing Shiro to realize that he had been staring for quite some time. He felt a flush creep up his face as he nodded, pointedly avoiding looking at them as they sat beside him. He felt his phone buzz again and quickly unlocked it, thankful for the distraction.

 _I'm too poor for a latte and you know it._

He opened up the picture that came with the message, rolling his eyes as he saw Keith's middle finger next to a coffee almost as black as his hair. He glanced at the gallery icon in the corner of the picture, and before he knew it he was looking through his phone's gallery, finger frantically swiping upwards through the years of memories. He finally saw what he was looking for, thumb tapping on the image to enlarge it; a picture of Matt, standing in front of a university's rocket statue, arm slung around his younger sister.

 _Only 14 and already in university!_

That was what the message had said about Katie Holt, Matt's genius sister. He remembered occasionally visiting their family, smiling as he watched Matt and Katie argue over codes, robotics, and general science in terms that were far above his comprehension. Remembered how Katie, who while wanting to go into robotic engineering, was more than content to help Matt modify their special effects machines. Who was closer to Matt than Shiro himself, who was probably willing to put themselves _right into the line of fire to avenge Matt_.

Right as Shiro turned to begin questioning the person sitting next to him though, he heard Coran call his name. He muttered a curse, returning his magazine back with the others and heading towards the front desk. He could feel the stranger's eyes on his back as he walked, analyzing his every move; so similar to Katie, it couldn't be a coincidence.

"Allura's in her office," Coran said, gesturing towards the door, "It's the third door on the right."

Shiro nodded, muttering his thanks as he pushed through the door. He heard Coran call the stranger's name- did he really hear Pidge? He pushed the thought aside though, reaching the third door on the right and knocking with his left hand.

"Come in," A woman's voice called out, voice melodic with a British accent. Shiro opened the heavy door, closing it behind him. Across the room from him, sitting at a large wooden desk and furiously typing away at a computer, was a young woman with long curly white hair. Her skin tone was much darker than Coran's, and the tattoos underneath her blue eyes were a light pink instead of blue. She pulled her eyes away from her computer, leaning over the desk as she offered him her hand and a bright smile.

"Mr. Shirogane, what a pleasure it is to meet you," She began, "My name is Allura."

Shiro took the hand, grateful that her handshake was far less enthusiastic than Coran's. "Please, just call me Shiro."

"Of course," She replied, sitting back down in her chair. Shiro sat in the chair in front of her desk, noticing that unlike the ones in the lobby he didn't sink into it. His eyes wandered around the room, taking note of the sparse decorations and bookshelf lined with various novels and books about law. Behind Allura was a large window, looking out at the city coming alive; just as he began to enjoy the view, however, Allura drew the blinds.

"I apologize," Allura stated, "But, since this office is on the ground floor, it is highly likely someone may see the famous Takashi Shirogane and report it to the media. And, whether this meeting is fruitful or not, I would like it to stay private."

Shiro nodded. "Thank you, I appreciate it. Although, this does raise the question of how you knew where I lived?"

Allura sighed, lacing her hands together. "There had been rumors that you'd gone to live at that address with a friend after the accident. It was honestly just fortune smiling upon us that you were actually there."

 _It was honestly just chance that you decided to come_ , Shiro heard the meaning behind her words almost as if she had spoken them out loud. He fixed his gaze on her, fighting to keep his arms on his lap and not crossed over his chest. "You mentioned Zarkon. Why?"

A distant look came into Allura's eyes as she looked down at the desk. "Many years ago, even before I was born, Altea was a highly successful company. We worked with artists throughout the country, even thinking about expanding globally. Then, ten years ago, one of our artists betrayed us. He pulled out all these false claims, bringing up hundreds of lawsuits against the current director at the time, my father Alfor. Each one was nothing but slanderous lies, and yet…. somehow, he was able to procure evidence to back up his accusations. Eventually he and Alfor came to an agreement: Alfor could keep the company, but he had to pay such exorbitant fees that we might as well have lost the company. The artist took his earnings, and with it, founded Galra Records and worked viciously to put us out of business."

"Zarkon," Shiro breathed. Allura nodded, hands tightening as she continued her story.

"My father worked very hard to keep Zarkon from completely destroying the company. We mostly have worked with grassroots, underground, and Indie music groups. But, well…once they get fame, they've left us for bigger and more successful companies."

"Companies like Galra."

"Yes; it would not be the first time we've lost an artist to Zarkon. Eventually the stress took its toll on my father, and he passed away last year."

"I'm sorry," Shiro immediately responded. Allura smiled sadly, eyes still trained on her hands on the desk.

"I appreciate your condolences; he was a good man." Allura muttered, "But, his death comes as a blessing in disguise, because with it we have the funds to be able to produce an artist truly worthy of fighting against Galra's."

Shiro blinked, realization dawning upon him. "You want me to perform and produce music as a way to put Galra out of business?"

Allura nodded, meeting his surprised gaze with her own determined one. "Yes. Coran and I believe that with your previous fans and history, you would be able to become famous enough to not only put this company back on the map, but to break up this monopoly that Zarkon has on the industry."

Shiro stared at his hands, mind racing a mile a minute with this new information. He was Allura and Coran's last hope, their last chance at getting back at Zarkon for destroying their lives and indirectly killing Alfor. He clenched his fists, feeling his agreement to offer rising in his throat, ready to commit to the idea of dedicating the rest of his career to fighting Zarkon in a battle of sales…but the memories slammed into him, stopping the words short in his throat and choking him. Memories of those long nights being berated and screamed at…memories of the emotional and physical abuse that he witnessed and endured…memories of _the weight of the lights crushing his arm, the smell of burning flesh, Matt's voice crying out his name_ ….

"I understand if you need time," Allura's voice cut through the haze his mind had created. His head jerked up, eyes blinking rapidly as he focused on the concern on her face. "It is a lot to process."

Shiro shook his head, reminding himself to breathe. "No, it's…it's not that. I _want_ to, more than anything else, it's just…just…"

"The memories?"

He nodded, head hanging in shame. "I don't think I could handle it alone."

Allura hummed, fingertip tapping against the wood of her desk as she weighed his words carefully. "Well…we weren't planning on restarting the group until we had more in profits, but…"

"What are you talking about?"

"Back when the company was just starting, my father created a group known as Voltron, comprised of five members. He fashioned the group after the pop idol groups in Japan and Korea; a group that falls under the same name, but if a member leaves for whatever reason they can just find a new member and keep the group going. It worked very well, and Voltron became adapted to almost every genre of music throughout its time due to the different styles of its members. Unfortunately, while it was wildly popular, when Zarkon took Altea to court, it was the first thing to be dismantled due to its upkeep costs. It may be the only thing whose notoriety would be more powerful than yours, and it could end disastrously, but if it works…." Allura grinned, "We may have just the tool needed to defeat Zarkon without you working alone."

Shiro mulled over the idea; he had collaborated with a few artists before, but if their collaboration failed it usually never made a dent in his popularity. But this…this was relying on four other people who could easily make or break him. Four people who would undoubtedly see him at his worst more often than at his best. But while these thoughts were intimidating, the thought of doing it all alone crept at the corners of his mind, promising blind panic and an inability to breathe if he entertained them.

"As long as I get to sit in on auditions," Shiro blurted out, mouth moving faster than his mind. Allura blinked, surprise evident on her features before she schooled her expression into one of polite enthusiasm.

"Of course! After all, you will be the leader of this group; the 'Black Paladin', as we've called them in the past." Allura said, reaching into a drawer as she spoke. She pulled out a notepad, a pen, and a business card, pushing the items towards Shiro.

"Here is my number and email, in case you have any questions," Allura said, pointing at the card, "And, if you could just write your contact information down?"

Shiro nodded, grasping the pen as he wrote his cellphone number down on the pad offered to him. He pushed the pad of paper back at Allura, who had yet to stop smiling since his agreement. She picked it up, tearing the page off the pad and setting it next to her computer.

"Either I or Coran will contact you when we decide to set up auditions," She said, immediately turning back to her computer, "Do you know your way out?"

"Um…yes, I believe I do."

She nodded, clearly distracted by the work she set before her. "Good; I hope to speak with you again soon."

"Likewise," Shiro said, pushing himself out of the chair. He headed towards the door, giving one last glance over his shoulder at Allura. She was furiously typing away at the desktop, the tip of her tongue poking out between her lips as she stared intently at the screen. He smiled, exiting the room and closing the door quietly behind him.

"So you accepted their offer, huh?"

Shiro jumped at the voice, turning to face Pidge as they leaned against the wall. He sighed, placing a hand over his heart in an attempt to steady his breathing.

"What are you doing here?"

Pidge shrugged, pushing their glasses up their nose. "I saw you in the lobby, and I figured since we're going to be working together I should get to know you better."

"I see…And does Matt know you've applied to work here under a fake name?"

Pidge frowned, putting their hands on their hips. "Yes, actually. He even helped create the background information for the fake alias so that I wouldn't be found out."

"I believe that's illegal." Shiro stated, though he couldn't hold back the smile on his face even if he tried. It was so like Katie and Matt to do something like this that he could hardly believe any time had passed at all. Pidge shrugged, hands falling at their sides at his statement.

"It's only illegal if you get caught doing it. Otherwise, it's perfectly fine."

Shiro chuckled. "It's good to see you haven't changed Katie. Or should I be calling you Pidge now?"

Pidge tapped her finger to her chin, mockingly thinking about the answer. "Hmm…well, I guess since it's you, you can call me Katie in private. But anywhere else, like this hallway, it's Pidge."

"Understood…Pidge." Shiro replied, giving a knowing wink. Pidge laughed, smile lighting up her face, and for a moment Shiro could pretend that he was just visiting Matt's family during one of their rare free moments. That Matt had just gone off somewhere to grab more snacks and drinks, maybe even get their dog Rover to join in on the fun. Pidge noticed the faraway look in Shiro's eyes and frowned, painfully familiar with the look of a man lost in better days.

"He misses you, you know."

Shiro's head jerked slightly, almost as if he had been dozing and Pidge awakened him. She suddenly felt smaller than she already was, finding her shoes far more fascinating than his gaze.

"Matt…He misses you a lot. He…blames himself, for what happened. Says he knew he shouldn't have pushed for it, that with his luck it'd be terrible."

"He shouldn't," Shiro muttered, voice wracked with guilt for the pain he'd been causing Matt. "I knew the dangers associated with it, and I still wanted to go for it. If anything, it's my fault for encouraging him."

"You should tell him that. Talk out all your feelings and stuff."

Shiro shook his head, feeling his heart clench with fear at the idea of talking to Matt once again. Would Matt hate him, despise him for the pain Shiro had unintentionally put the Holt family through? Through the storm of emotions and what-if's he heard Pidge sigh; he felt her hand rest on his elbow in a comforting manner. He looked down, seeing Pidge's sad smile directed up at him.

"Can't blame a girl for trying," She sniffed, eyes beginning to water up. Shiro nodded mutely, pulling Pidge into a hug and letting her cry quietly into the fabric of his vest. It was the least he could do for a family who treated him as one of their own that he had irrevocably destroyed.

* * *

The college's workout room was for once filled with to the brim with various students from all majors. It was the end of the semester, and everyone was there for various reasons: preparing for beach season, working off finals stress, or just because they enjoyed exercise. And sometimes, Lance mused as he eyed the short shorts of the girls running on the treadmill, a person could come to have a bit of fun.

He tousled his short brown hair a bit, inserting his headphones into his ears and turning on his favorite song. He smirked, hearing the song slowly build up, the rapid Spanish rap filling his ears. He swayed his hips as he walked, looking as if he owned the entire building and decided to make it his own personal runway.

" _A ella le gusta la gasolina, dame mas gasolina_ ," Lance sang along in perfect sync; he flashed a smile over to the girls who looked over. Some rolled their eyes, others blushed at the attention, and one or two happened to do both. He would certainly have to visit the ones that did both; feisty and interested were definitely his favorite type. But first, he should look at the notice board that hung in the corner before he began any extraneous cardio. After all, this was where Lance found some of the wilder parties and events on campus; it wasn't rare for Lance to make his weekend plans based off what the board offered.

Today, despite it being the end of the semester, there was a sore lack of parties being advertised. Lance scoffed; bunch of nerds lived on this campus apparently. His attention was caught by a rather interesting flier, tabs cut at the bottom for people to rip off as they pleased. He decided to take a closer look, figuring that it was a research study looking for willing participants and offering to pay in either gift cards or actual cash.

 _Auditions being held for the newest incarnation of Altea's Team Voltron!_

 _With special guest judge and Voltron's new Black Paladin, Takashi Shirogane!_

 _All interested parties should come to the following location on these dates._

Lance's eyes widened as he grasped the flier, nearly tearing it off the board in his haste. A chance to not only finally reach stardom, but a chance to meet _the_ Takashi Shirogane, voice of a generation?

Lance had already run out the gym and pressed speed dial for his friend, a tab grasped tightly in his hands.

"Hunk, have I got some awesome news!"

* * *

It was the first day of the auditions, and once again Keith had agreed to accompany Shiro to the location. Allura, Coran, and Pidge were already inside, setting up recording, video, and sound systems Despite not actually being the one to audition, Shiro felt nervous; what if they didn't find anyone? Would he still have to do it alone? What if they did find four other members, and they turned out to all be terrible people?

A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts; he turned to see Keith staring up at him, a concerned look on his face. Shiro did his best to reassure him, resting his own hand on top and giving a smile.

"Not too late to back out and go home to watch Jeopardy," Keith offered, a teasing note in his voice. Shiro chuckled, pushing Keith's hand off his shoulder as he headed inside.

"And listen to you whine about me winning? I'll pass."

The door to the building creaked open, drowning out Keith's unintelligible grumbling. Allura smiled as she spotted Shiro from across the room, waving her greeting. Shiro waved back, heading over after he gave Keith his signature "be on your best behavior" look; Keith rolled his eyes, shoving his hands into his pockets as he followed.

"I'm so glad you made it," Allura said, her entire being seeming to vibrate with energy. "Pidge and Coran have gotten most of the systems set up in the auditioning room already. I'll show you the way and let you get settled in."

Allura pushed the door open, holding it for Shiro. He blinked, heading through the doorway; as Keith went to follow however, he was stopped by a hand on his chest. He glared at Allura, who merely met his scowl with a schooled expression of neutrality.

"Sorry, but everyone who is auditioning has to wait out here until we call them." She spoke, tone full of authority and missing the gentle kindness that she had given Shiro the other day. "Please go sign in and wait for your name to be called."

"Allura, he's with me," Shiro said, placing his left hand on her shoulder, "I asked him to come and sit beside me for…moral support."

"Yeah, so let me through." Keith spat out, pushing her hand off his chest. Allura frowned, eyebrows drawing together as she regarded him.

"As…touching, as that is, I'm afraid that I can't allow that," Allura replied, turning her attention to Shiro. From behind her, Shiro could see Keith's hands ball into fists as he glared daggers into her back. "Only judges, members of the company, and those auditioning are allowed back here."

"If you're gonna talk about me, you should do it to my fucking face," Keith growled; Allura spun around, shock at being addressed evident on her face. Shiro merely rested his head in his hand, dragging his palm down his face as he prayed to a higher power for things to resolve themselves.

"Excuse me? How dare you talk that way! Do you know who I am?"

"Yeah, the bitch that's keeping me from helping Shiro."

Coran and Pidge had stuck their heads out now to see what the commotion was about. Shiro saw Pidge's face split into a devious grin; she had heard stories about Keith's infamous temper and impulsivity, and how it always resulted in interesting situations.

"I also happen to be the _bitch_ who owns this property and can have you removed from it," Allura seethed, leaning down to get into Keith's face. "So if you really wish to help your friend, then either audition or get out of my building!"

A tense silence began, in which Shiro could almost see literal electricity fly between Keith and Allura's glares. Looking back, he probably should have cleared this with Allura before assuming that it would be alright; now, there was nothing left to do but break up the fight. Just as he stepped forward though, he heard Keith growl, breaking his gaze from Allura.

"Fine," He spat, "I'll audition. _But_ , I'm doing it now."

"Fair."

" _And_ if I get in, I'm sitting in and putting my input in."

As if a switch had been flipped, Alllura's entire demeanor changed back to sweet and high energy. "Of course! After all, we'd want the both of you to like whoever you work with."

Keith grumbled, pushing past her and stalking towards the room where Coran and Pidge had disappeared back into. Shiro followed after him, ignoring the victorious air that Allura wore as she walked.

"Keith, really, you don't have to do this for me." Shiro said, opening the door for him. Keith rolled his eyes, frown marring his face as he flipped through his phone.

"Tch, it's not even about you right now," Keith muttered darkly, glaring at Allura, "It's about telling her to shove it."

From the corner, Shiro could hear Pidge failing to keep her snickers quiet. Shiro sighed, knowing that once Keith had his mind set on something, it was unlikely that he would change it.

"Alright," He said, lifting his hands in defeat, "Just…try not to make a _total_ ass of yourself?"

"Just go sit down."

Shiro nodded, moving to his spot in the middle of the table. On his left sat Allura, pen moving rapidly as she wrote something down on the pad of paper before her. He noticed he also had one; he figured that was for writing down specific names and thoughts.

"Alright Keith," Allura said, setting the pen aside and folding her hands in front of her. "Whenever you're ready."

Shiro saw the look on Keith's face, and instantly his stomach dropped as he recognized the look that inevitably gave him a massive headache. _This_ was the look Keith had when Shiro thought Iverson was actually going to knock him into next Tuesday; _this_ was the look that Keith wore when he decided to jump Red over a canyon. This was the look that, no matter how much Shiro begged and pleaded, always guaranteed some form of trouble.

"My name is Keith, and I'm auditioning to be Shiro's moral support and personally to say 'fuck you' to Allura."

And over the sound of electric guitars and heavy drums, Shiro swore that he heard Allura's calm and graceful demeanor crack.

Shiro had heard Keith sing as he cooked and showered, usually something that had lots of guitar, drums, and gritty lyrics. Despite his rough appearance his voice was soft and melodic, suited for soft songs played on pianos and guitars, or at least unplugged versions of his favorite songs. Not for…

 _Dickhead, fuckface_

 _Cock-smoking, mother-fucking_

 _Asshole, dirty twat_

 _Waste of semen, I hope you die, hey_

…Whatever it was he just sang to Allura, Jesus _Christ_.

" _Enough_ ," Allura slammed her hands on the table, interrupting the song. Keith paused it, smirking as he gave a mock bow. Off to the sides, Coran and Pidge watched the unfolding horror show with some mixture of amusement and fear.

"So what did you think," Keith asked, arms crossed over his chest as he raised an eyebrow in challenge. Before Allura could even begin to voice the millions of complaints she had Shiro raised his hand, fixing Keith with his stare.

"If you're going to make an ass of yourself, you can leave."

For all the world, Keith looked as if the wind had been knocked out of him; his shoulders hunched forward slightly, eyes blinking owlishly at Shiro's words. It wasn't often that Shiro was harsh with Keith, but when he was it always did it's intended effect of stopping whatever trouble he had gotten himself into.

"But…. Shiro, I-"

"I don't want to hear it," Shiro snapped, "What you just did was disrespectful not just to Allura, but to me. If you want to be helpful, then drop the attitude and be serious; otherwise, you need to leave."

The absolute betrayal and fear that appeared on Keith's face made Shiro's heart clench painfully. But as soon as the look was there it was gone, replaced by a more neutral expression as he scrolled through his phone. Shiro slumped back into his chair, hearing Allura huff as she leaned back as well, arms crossed over her chest. He turned towards her, readying an apology, but Keith had made his selection, the music already beginning. Already he could tell it was a better choice; the tone was softer, the guitars less angry and drums mostly for keeping rhythm.

 _Memories consume, like opening the wound_

 _I'm picking me apart again_

Shiro recognized the song; sometimes Keith hummed and sang it under his breath on days when he felt he screwed up and the world seemed a little less forgiving than usual. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Allura lean forwards, her body language becoming less tense as her face betrayed her shock. While he knew that Keith had a nice voice, he hadn't expected the total command of attention that he was able to get from Allura after such a vulgar display earlier. Perhaps it was the way that Keith didn't hold back any of the emotions; similar to how he was around Shiro, his singing was highly expressive, creating a colorful tapestry with the music acting as the weave, guiding each line into its rightful place. The way he delivered the lyrics, his stance…Shiro could tell that not only was he putting his all into it, but that he was delivering a handmade apology to everyone in the room for how he acted earlier. As the song faded out and Keith met Shiro's gaze, he couldn't stop the grin that overtook him at the bashful look on his friend's face.

Allura cleared her throat, garnering the attention of everyone else. "Well, I think that performance is a marked improvement." She said, shooting Keith a small smile. "With Shiro's permission, I would love to extend an offer to you to not only be his 'moral support', but to be our Red Paladin."

Shiro laughed at the widening of Keith's eyes, his expression comical as he whipped his head to look at Shiro. "I'm more than okay with it," Shiro responded, grey eyes meeting Keith's, "But at the end of the day, it's Keith's decision."

All eyes turned to Keith, waiting to see how he would respond. The tension was palpable, thick enough that you could cut it with a knife. Then Keith smiled, and it felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from everyone's shoulders.

"Where do I sign?"

* * *

Lance sighed, leg bouncing uncontrollably as he sat slouched in his seat. He and Hunk had gotten there bright and early only to see that the lobby was filled with other people, each wanting their own chance at stardom or to just "catch a glimpse of _The Champion_ ". His own stomach was growling, as he had refused to eat anything heavy in fear of it affecting his voice and dancing. His only solace was in watching various contestants run out the doors crying, obviously having been rejected by the panel in the room.

"Dude, you sure you don't want any?" Came a voice to his right; Lance glanced over, seeing his best friend Hunk offering a bag of chips to him. Hunk was a large man, skin a similar dark shade to Lance's, though perhaps a bit darker. In his other hand he clutched a piece of paper; his resume, as Hunk had seen an ad for stage crew for the company. Lance scrunched up his nose, pushing the bag away from him.

"No way man, salt will totally wreck my vocal chords." Lance replied, "Gotta keep myself hydrated. Then afterwards, you and I will go out for the biggest most ridiculous lunch this city has ever _seen_."

"There's not exactly a lot of big ridiculous lunch places around here on a budget." Hunk replied, staring wistfully at the floor. "Well I mean, unless you count that one buffet place that's just outside the city limits."

"My man, you know I am."

"Er, is there a Lance here," An Australian accented voice called out. Lance jerked his entire body up, running towards the door.

"Me, me, that's me, right here ready for take-off!" Lance said, skidding to a stop in front of the man. The man twirled his orange mustache, immediately turning around and heading through the doors. Lance followed after him, aura exuding confidence despite the butterflies in his stomach; Hunk trailed behind, ready to give the moral support needed. The mustachioed man opened a door, revealing a room big enough for any dance moves that Lance had planned. Across the room sat three people, one of which Lance immediately recognized as his idol Takashi Shirogane. The dark-skinned woman sitting to Shiro's left, while unknown, was certainly someone Lance wished to get to know better after all of this was over, whether he got in or not. He glanced at the scowling dark-haired man sitting to Shiro's right, giving him a once over before directing his attention to the two more prominent catches to his attention.

"My name is Allura, and it's a pleasure to meet you," The woman, Allura, spoke in a British accent. Lance inwardly cheered; he _loved_ girls with accents. "What's your name?"

"The name's Lance," He said, gesturing towards her with finger guns, "Although you can just call me 'the next big thing'."

The man on Shiro's right tilted his head back, taking a deep breath through his nose. Shiro placed his prosthetic hand on his shoulder, as if trying to calm him, before he addressed Lance.

"And what will you be auditioning with today Lance?"

"Only the best party song currently in existence," Lance said, jerking his thumb back at Hunk. "Hit it!"

Lance shook his shoulders out as Hunk pressed play on the stereo. Instantly, an auto-tuned voice flowed through the room; the man sitting next to Shiro dragged his hand down his face, apparently sick of the song already. Lance narrowed his eyes, mouth opening to begin singing, determined to change that expression to one of shock and awe.

 _Players, put yo' pinky rings up to the moon_

At the word "moon", Lance slid out, feet gliding across the floor. The three judges blinked; clearly they hadn't been expecting a dance routine with the song. Lance grinned, more than ready to surprise them as he danced his own routine smoothly. As soon as he had heard about the audition, he had immediately spent any free time he had on developing and practicing this routine. He moved his hips suggestively towards the table, making sure to make eye contact with each of them.

 _Don't look too hard might hurt ya'self_

 _Known to give the color red the blues_

At that, he gave the man on Shiro's right who just happened to be wearing red a wink; he heard Hunk and the techie in the corner snicker, while his victim didn't seem to appreciate the gesture. Lance smirked; clearly that was a challenge to up the charm. He slid over, making sure to sit on the edge of the table right next to red, leaning in and raising a hand to the man's face.

 _Why you mad, fix ya face ain't my fault y'all be jocking. Keep up!_

He patted the man's face before swiftly moving away; he almost laughed in the middle of the chorus as an audible growl of displeasure left Red's mouth. Shiro and Allura's mouths quirked upwards in smiles, clearly amused at his antics. Lance could at least concede that two out of three wasn't bad; besides, he noticed Red had a _mullet_ , of all hairstyles. Clearly if that man couldn't be trusted with his hair, then his judgement on anything else should instantly be voided. With that comforting thought in mind, Lance continued to perform, confidence boosted as he saw Shiro and Allura's feet begin to tap underneath the table. He winked and sent finger guns to Allura, body rolling smoothly as he sang out a "hey girl"; she froze, seemingly unsure what to do with it, while Shiro merely laughed. As the song began to start the bridge, the beat building up the slow grind, Lance couldn't help but wonder how she'd react to _this_.

Lance spun, dropping his body almost perpendicular to the floor; the judge's scrambled to look over the table, making sure he was actually alright. Lance immediately pushed himself back up, doing an entire body roll before strutting his way towards the center of the room. He hadn't quite perfected the execution during his practices, but his philosophy was to go big or go home, and this was certainly going big. The sensation of all eyes on him, each and every breath held for his next move… _this_ was the thrill that he was always seeking, whether through misbehavior or stellar performances. As the song began its climatic chorus he pushed himself into the backflip, tucking his long legs up into his chest; he landed perfectly, the applause and gasps of surprise fueling him to put extra energy into the final chorus. He shimmied his shoulders, fists pumping the air as he sang enthusiastically, for a moment feeling like he was actually on the stage instead of in some auditioning room. Soon though the song began to fade out, prompting him to drop to his knees and slide forward, chest heaving and his arms spread wide as if meant to gather up the praise and applause fans would give; he would find he wouldn't be disappointed.

"Splendid," Allura clapped, glancing over at Shiro, "Lance certainly has a commanding presence, doesn't he?"

"He does." Shiro nodded, a small smile gracing his features. "Kind of reminds me of when I was still performing."

Lance practically beamed; being told that _he_ , little nobody Lance, reminded his idol Takashi Shirogane of himself? Clearly he must have broken his neck during his audition, because this was way too good to be true.

"Maybe if he focused on singing more than dancing there'd be something to praise."

Nope, clearly this was reality if there were red wearing mullets spitting out slanderous _lies_ about his audition in an effort to ruin his post-performance buzz. Lance pulled himself off his knees, brushing his pants off as he glared at the mullet. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," He said smugly, arms crossed over his chest, "You didn't hit _any_ of the high notes that song has, and since I've heard it twenty times today I _know_ where you screwed up."

"Alright, so my range is mid-baritone to mid-tenor; so sue me!" Lance crossed his arms over his chest, gaze locking with the mullet's. "Bet you're a tenor; you guys are always so high and mighty, looking down on anyone who can't hit those notes."

Somehow he managed to narrow his eyes even more, which Lance would have found impressive if he wasn't currently angry at him. "It's not a matter of my vocal range, but rather you focusing more on the dance aspect than the singing aspect. You have to be able to do both."

"Well at least I can dance, unlike _someone_ in here."

 _That_ was definitely a growl coming from Red, who was currently pushing his chair backwards. Before he could make any other moves though, Shiro placed his prosthetic arm across his body in an effort to stop.

"Enough Keith," Shiro commanded sternly, "You've already made at least ten people cry today; I'm not letting you give one a black eye just because they annoy you."

Keith scowled, slumping back into his chair as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Whatever," He grumbled, jerking his head towards Hunk. "Just let the big guy audition and you two can leave."

Lance and Hunk looked at each other, both surprised. "Who, Hunk? Naw man, he's not here to audition; he's my moral support!"

Keith smirked looking over at Shiro and Allura, both of whom cradled their heads in their hands as if they suddenly realized a horrible mistake. "Oh really? Well that's funny, because when _I_ tried to be moral support, someone told me that I had to audition if I wanted to be back here. Isn't that right Allura?"

Allura sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Yes, that is technically what I told you."

"And we can't make _any_ exceptions to the rules, right Allura?"

" _Yes_ , I believe that is the gist of what I implied earlier."

Keith turned back to look at Lance, looking as if this was a game of chess and he had five different ways to capture Lance's king. "Well, you heard her: time for your friend's audition."

Lance spluttered, gesturing wildly. "That's…you can't…it's…meet me in the pit mullet!"

"Tch, have to rely on memes because you can't formulate real sentences?"

"Too chicken to fight me so you make jabs instead?"

Keith began shrugging off his jacket. "If you wanted your ass kicked, should've just said so."

Just as Lance was about to retort, he felt a large hand grasp his shoulder and push him back. He stared at the broad back of Hunk in shock, noticing how despite his confident stance there was a slight tremble to his limbs.

"Hunk, what are you doing," Lance asked, "You don't have to listen to what Keith says, he has a _mullet_!"

"It's alright Lance," Hunk said, offering his brightest smile despite his nerves. "I'll just audition, and then we can go out for that buffet you promised without any critical injuries."

Lance nodded mutely, walking to Hunk's spot at the back of the room. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Hunk stand in the center of the room like a hawk. He knew Hunk had problems with being the center of attention; namely, if he didn't take an anti-emetic medication beforehand, there was a very high chance he would throw up. He had seen it happen on occasion during high school, and had promptly got into fights with kids who dared to make fun of Hunk. With medication and time, it got better; though after an important presentation Hunk would still run off to the bathroom to vomit.

 _Wise men say_

 _Only fools rush in_

 _But I can't help falling in love with you_

So lost in thought Lance had been that he hadn't even noticed that Hunk's song had begun; what he did notice was the rich bass accompanying it that filled the room. He felt his entire body relax, hands dropping to his sides as he stared at Hunk's back in awe. He had heard Hunk hum before as he cooked, but he never actually had heard him sing out loud. Like himself, Hunk's voice soothed over frayed nerves and chased the tension out of the room until all that was left was a serenity so peaceful that it bordered on ethereal. It created the feeling of being engulfed in a warm gentle bear hug, complete with someone stroking his hair and telling him it'd be alright. Lance didn't notice that he was holding his breath in fear of breaking the spell until his lungs begged him for air; judging by the sudden rise of everyone else's chests, it looked like he wasn't the only one. Even Keith, the angry asshole that Lance had deemed him to be, looked like he finally got the stick pulled out of his butt.

As the song began to fade out, Lance hollered and clapped, immediately startling the rest of the room back to the present. Hunk rubbed the back of his neck, feet shuffling on the ground as he glanced downwards. Immediately Lance ran over, wrapping his arms around Hunk's neck; he noted the flush on Hunk's face.

"Dude, that was incredible," Lance said, patting him on the back, "I've been your best friend since like forever, and I didn't know you could sing! Why didn't you tell me you could sing?"

Hunk twiddled his fingers, flush increasing. "Ah well, you know, with the whole stage fright thing I don't really like to broadcast it to the world." As soon as he mentioned 'stage fright', his face began to pale as his stomach gave an audible gurgle. "Uh, speaking of which…where's your restroom? Or nearest trash can that's not here?"

"Coran can show you." Allura said, gesturing over to the man with the orange mustache. Coran nodded, stepping forward and guiding Hunk away from the center of the room and opening the door.

"Right down the hall to your left."

Hunk nodded, one hand clasped over his mouth and the other clutching his stomach as he sprinted out of the room. Lance was hot on his heels, looking like a worried mother as he shouted after Hunk; all they could make out was something involving the women's bathroom. Shiro, Keith, and Allura shared looks with each other before shrugging their shoulders and organizing their papers.

"Coran, could you please get the next prospective?"

* * *

Allura leaned back in her chair, setting her headphones aside as she massaged her temples, staring up at the ceiling. The auditions had lasted for a few days, and after each day she collected the list of potential candidates that she, Shiro, and Keith had compiled. She frowned as she stared specifically at Keith's list; it was significantly shorter than Shiro's, and next to the name Lance were several colorful descriptors. She wasn't exactly sure if it was a blessing or curse that Lance was on both hers and Shiro's lists. After handing the lists to Pidge, Pidge had cross-referenced each of the lists and then created various samples using a music program and their recorded auditions to simulate what each potential group of Voltron would sound like. While Allura was particular to any grouping that had Shiro, Keith, Lance, and Hunk, she wasn't satisfied with the harmonies Pidge was able to simulate with a fifth member.

" _Perhaps we need to hold more auditions,"_ Allura thought, staring at her computer screen. _"Or maybe we can be successful with just four members? It would be more cost effective…"_

Allura unfortunately already knew the answer to that; she had listened to a sample with just Keith, Shiro, Lance, and Hunk. Despite how wonderful it sounded, it was missing a certain _something_ that she couldn't put her finger on. Someone who could hit notes higher than Keith if they really needed to…someone who could do falsetto?

Allura growled, slamming her hands against the desk as she pushed her chair back. She had been cooped up in her office for too long; she needed either a break, a shot of caffeine, or a combination of both. Perhaps she'd find Pidge and Coran, see if they wanted to go and grab dinner together before returning to work. Before she could really plan out where they should go that was within their budget, she heard a faint sound of drums coming from the audition room.

 _What a wonderful caricature of intimacy_

 _Inside, what a wonderful caricature of intimacy_

Allura tilted her head, carefully making her way towards the room. She knew Coran had a habit of listening to music as he worked, singing along loudly and quite out of tune. But this wasn't Coran's voice, nor was it a song that she had ever heard him listen to. As she poked her head into the doorway, her eyes widened at the sight before him.

There, spinning like a whirling dervish around the room as he dismantled everything and sang along to the music was Pidge. His movements went with the beat and the rhythm of the music, unplugging a chord here or pulling a camera down from the wall there. Allura saw the smile on Pidge's face as he paused, setting down a piece of equipment before spinning to the center of the room.

 _There are no…_

Pidge began to dance; it wasn't nearly as impressive as Lance's, looking more like a bastardized version of ballet that one would do with their family or in the privacy of their room. But the fluidity and grace that accompanied his movements, coupled with his voice, wove a spell that could easily fool one into thinking that Pidge was a professional. Allura found that she couldn't tear her gaze away, feeling her breath catch in her throat and a grin form on her face. As the music turned to an orchestral instrumental break, Allura knew what she would do with this newfound information. Her conviction only grew as Pidge sang along to the song, eyes closed as he swayed the music and voice following the rise and fall of the crescendos. All too soon the song ended, Pidge giving a bow to the room; Allura clapped, startling Pidge into standing up straight and adjusting his glasses.

"Oh, Ms. Allura," He said, coughing into his hand; a blush was prominent on his cheeks. "I, uh, I-I was just cleaning up in here. Is there something you need?"

Allura nodded, stepping into the room. "I need you to create your own vocal sample so that I can run a simulation with Keith's, Shiro's, Lance's, and Hunk's."

Pidge blinked, clearly not expecting that request to be spoken. "I…what?"

Allura smiled, hands clasped in front of her. "How would you like to be a Paladin of Voltron?"

* * *

"Can you believe this Hunk? We're both Paladins of Voltron! Both of us! This is like, the best news _ever_!"

"What about that time you were the only one in your class to ace astrophysics," Hunk asked, gesturing with his chicken nugget. Lance looked up at the ceiling, tapping his lips with a French fry in a thoughtful manner.

"That _was_ pretty good news…" Lance muttered, redirecting his gaze to the table. He grinned, raising his gaze to Hunk's. "But, I think being able to say I'm going to be working with _the_ Takashi Shirogane with my best bud in the entire universe trumps everything else."

Hunk placed a hand over his heart, a fond smile on his face. "Aw, Lance, that's so sweet."

"Plus I think that hot British chick is our _boss_."

"Well, it was sweet," Hunk rolled his eyes, going back to studying as Lance ranted about their new job; those robots weren't going to build themselves for his finals.

* * *

" _You're_ _ **what**_ _?"_

Pidge flinched, holding her phone away from her ear as Matt screeched into the phone. Once she was sure that it was safe, she brought it back. "I'm the new Green Paladin of Voltron."

" _I can't believe this,"_ Matt replied, _"Katie we made that profile so you could be a_ _ **techie,**_ _not to be…to be a walking target for Zarkon's cruelty!"_

"Allura said I could still help with tech work."

" _That's not the point of this conversation and you know it."_

Pidge sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she leaned back in her chair. "Everything will be alright Matt; I've got very powerful allies."

" _Powerful as in connections?"_

"No, more like I'm pretty sure Allura can bench press both of us and the Red Paladin has like no self-preservation instincts." Pidge stated, examining her nails. "He called Allura a bitch to her face and then auditioned with Green Day's Platypus."

" _Isn't that the one that…?"_

Pidge grinned. "The very same."

Laughter could be heard at the other end of the line; faintly she could hear their dog barking as he investigated the new noise. Pidge was suddenly hit by a sharp pang of homesickness as she imagined herself there, sitting in Matt's room surrounded by junk food as she relayed the story.

" _Oh my God,"_ Matt wheezed, snapping Pidge out of her fantasy, _"How did Allura even let him in after that?"_

"Shiro is a very persuasive individual."

The emotional shift of the conversation was frankly dizzying. _"Oh…Shiro's there too?"_ Matt asked tentatively. _"How's uh…how's he doing?"_

Pidge shrugged, toying with the hem of her shirt. "Still incredibly jacked, if you can believe it. Dude must spend the whole day working out or something."

" _That's…that's good, that's good. Good to hear."_

Pidge could practically see Matt sitting in front of her, fingers nervously playing with each other. She knew he wouldn't ask what was really on his mind unless prompted, so she decided to take the plunge. "He misses you too, you know."

" _Oh! He uh…h-he mentioned me?"_

"Yeah," Pidge replied; it wasn't a total lie, considering Shiro had asked if Matt knew. No reason to tell him that she was the one who had pushed the 'missing you' thing. "You should, you know, talk to him. Pretty sure his number hasn't changed."

She held her breath as she heard Matt sigh on the other end of the line; maybe this was the push he needed, she thought hopefully. Maybe now the two of them could go back to some semblance of normal, and Matt could smile and laugh freely again instead of spending days locked in his room wracked with guilt. Maybe some of the tension that she saw in Shiro's shoulders would be released, and the three of them could go back to the days when the worst thing that happened was Rover peeing on Shiro.

" _I…I can't Katie."_ Matt said, voice so apologetic that it only exacerbated the crushing of that hope. _"At least…at least not yet. He's probably dealing with a lot of stuff since he's working again, and I don't want to make anything worse. It's the least I can do."_

Pidge's shoulders slumped forward in defeat; so much for that dream. "Yeah yeah, I get it. Don't expect me to drop this though; now that I work with him, you'll be getting updates all the time."

" _Wouldn't have it any other way."_ She could hear the grin in Matt's voice. _"So, since you saw Shiro, does that mean you've finally met the infamous Keith?"_

Pidge grinned in excitement. "Oh yes, and let me tell you this: Shiro's stories do _not_ do him justice."

* * *

Shiro was trying very hard to hold back his laughter at the dejected look on Keith's face after they got the news from Allura about the new members of the Voltron besides themselves. "Come on, I'm sure Lance is a perfectly great person once you get to know him."

Keith gave him the look that Shiro had come to associate with the phrase 'I call bullshit on everything you just said'. "He said to fight him in a pit."

"To be fair you instigated it."

"He could've been the bigger person," Keith whined, hands flailing out to the side. This, coupled with the semi-pout on his face that made him look like some rejected kitten, proved too much for Shiro as he snickered into his left hand. The response was instantaneous: Keith glowered darkly at Shiro, which only caused Shiro to laugh harder.

"Traitor," He hissed, burying his head in his arms. Shiro merely rested his hand on his arm, laughter still going strong as he looked down at Keith; only thought crossed his mind.

 _This is certainly going to be interesting._

* * *

 **A/N: Things I am: trapped in Voltron hell and this Boyband!AU that I came up with. Things that I am not: dead. Don't expect much from this, because this will really only be a one-shot series following their shenanigans that will only be updated when I get hit with inspiration. If you really want details on everything, you should go look at my blog on tumblr, bingbong21; it has all the headcanon lists there.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron, or any of the audition songs mentioned here.**


	2. The Nyma Situation

**A/N: Occurs significantly later after the first chapter; I'm thinking like at least a year or so? Yeah let's go with that.  
**

* * *

Lance sighed, tugging fruitlessly against the handcuffs that were currently keeping him chained to a wooden pole. He rested his head against it, trying to ignore the cool breeze blowing against his half-naked body. While this sounded like the start of a really great fantasy, and it had certainly started off that way, it turned into something else; poor Lance had no idea where it went wrong. Mentally, he ran through everything that happened in an attempt to pinpoint just where his night fell apart.

While doing a benefit concert tour to protect the Balmeran reservation of Hunk's soon-to-be-but-not-yet girlfriend Shay, they stopped at some dive bar for dinner. There, they met the sinfully attractive blonde bombshell Nyma and her friend Rolo. As it turns out the two were huge fans of Voltron, or at least Nyma was a huge fan of Lance if the tight Blue Paladin t-shirt was anything to go by; Rolo mentioned that he was building some special effects thing called Beezer, which had garnered Pidge's attention. Lance couldn't really remember much about Rolo and his technical talk, given that he had been preoccupied with making Nyma laugh and causing her exotic purple eyes to sparkle. Against Hunk's wishes they ate and drank with the two, as the previous incarnations of Voltorn had always been very open to interacting with fans whenever. A little bit of food and drink later, and soon Nyma had grabbed Lance by the hand unnoticed and dragged him out of the bar.

Lance whined, tugging against his restraints, as the next part played out in _very_ vivid detail. Nyma had lent up against this very post, coyly motioning for him to come closer. Like the love struck fool he was, he had placed his hands on her hips and gave her his best smoldering look; she had giggled and blushed _such_ a beautiful shade of red. Just as he leaned in to begin the smooching though she had spun him around, cuffs locking around his wrists and around the post. He had looked at her confused but still willing to participate as she began cutting him out of his clothing with a knife she pulled from her back pocket; after all, who was he to judge someone's kinks? Then the next thing he knew Rolo was pulling up, and as he was beginning to wonder if he was really okay in doing a threesome with a dude, Nyma had hoped in his car and drove off into the metaphorical sunset. Leaving Lance chained to the tree alone, half-naked, in the dark.

 _Who the hell_ _ **does**_ _that?_

To top it all off, Lance's phone was in the pocket of his ruined pants, meaning that he couldn't contact the rest of the group. Internally he cried, hoping against hope that they would find him before asking a police search party to assist in finding him chained naked to a post. Lance already knew he wouldn't hear the end of it from Keith or Pidge either way, but having random strangers finding him would definitely only add to his eternal embarrassment.

To his eternal relief, he heard the sweet sound of Shiro's voice calling out his name in the distance. He shouted back, and soon the pounding sound of footsteps greeted his ears. He thanked every god that would listen, and even thanked the ones that wouldn't. And then he heard Pidge and Keith snickering and instantly began cursing.

"I know we're supposed to learn stuff about each other, but this is definitely too much information."

"You can just shut it Keith," Lance grumbled, hearing the smirk practically oozing out of Keith's voice. He heard the click of a camera and began a panicked struggle.

"Are you seriously documenting this?" Lance cried out, looking over his shoulder as best as he could. Briefly he caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye of Pidge tapping away at her phone.

"Of course," Pidge replied casually as if she were discussing the weather, "The fans need to know what a kinky nerd you are."

"Okay if I was gonna talk about my kinks, this is _not_ how I would reveal them." He heard his phone give a Twitter and Instagram notification. "Are you _serious_?"

"Then you shouldn't run off to have sex with strangers."

"That's enough," Shiro said, interrupting Lance's thought process for a retort. Lance thanked what few lucky stars he had that his idol wasn't a _complete_ asshole, unlike some people he knew.

"Keith, pick the lock on the handcuffs so that we can get out of here."

"You know how to do that?" Lance asked incredulously as Keith knelt down next to him. Keith shrugged, pulling out his multi-tool and a pin from seemingly out of nowhere and getting to work.

"Skill I just picked up."

"Okay no," Lance shook his head, " _Sewing_ is something you just 'pick up'. _Baking_ is something you just 'pick up'. _Breaking out of handcuffs is not_."

"Shiro, can't we just leave his kinky ass here?" Keith called over his shoulder, ignoring Lance's indignant squawk. "Stop squirming, that makes it take longer."

"No, we can't."

"Thank you Shiro," Lance called over his shoulder, looking down at Keith with a smug smirk; Keith rolled his eyes.

"Also," Shiro continued, "Everyone needs to stop kinkshaming Lance. If we don't accept everyone's sexual differences, we can't be a cohesive team."

Lance slammed his head into the post, groaning in a mixture of pain and embarrassment as Pidge howled with laughter and Keith snorted beside him. He was _certainly_ never going to hear the end of this.

* * *

The trip on the bus had started normally enough. Pidge had finally passed out sprawled in her bunk, all pillows encompassed by her short arms and a blanket wrapped around her legs to resembling a mermaid's tail. Hunk was eating some of his travel snacks, watching as the world went by and talking with Coran as he brewed some tea; something about Balmeran crystals and how recently they've become a mainstream light refraction system. Shiro was sitting behind the driver's seat where Allura sat, eyes closed and occasionally admonishing Allura when she muttered swears. Keith was busy running over his parts, having finally stopped pacing the bus; they learned rather quickly that the Red Paladin wasn't fond of crowded and enclosed spaces. Lance had just opened his phone, ready to update his followers about life during their charity tour, only to find that he had been bombarded with a thousand different notifications.

Really, it had been relatively peaceful until Lance shrieked, causing the following chain reaction.

Allura swerved the bus, causing everyone to jerk violently as cars honked at her; Shiro's head slammed into the wall, eyes flying open. Pidge jolted awake, swearing loudly as not only her head slammed into the bunk above her but as she also fell out of the bed. Coran swore as he spilled hot water on himself and Hunk, who's head had bashed into the window. Keith had jumped about a foot into the air and was currently glaring heatedly at Lance; Hunk and Shiro shot Lance concerned gazes.

"What the fuck," Keith shouted; Lance didn't respond, body slightly trembling as he stared frozen at his screen. Shiro walked over, gently prying the phone from his hand and reading aloud what had caused the disturbance.

"'The _Real_ Bad Boy of Voltron'", Shiro muttered, eyebrow raised, "Lance McClain being accused of…sexual assault…?"

The tension in the room became thick as Shiro read on. "Victim Nyma claims that Lance McClain attempt for force himself on her; thanks to self-defense classes, Nyma was able to escape unscathed. Friend and eye witness Rolo states that he saw the attack right as Nyma escaped, with several patrons at the bar saying they saw McClain and Nyma interacting all night. A picture posted by band mate Pidge Gunderson seems to corroborate their story."

"Shit," Pidge breathed, eyes wide. It was then that Lance began to babble.

"I didn't do anything!" Lance carded his fingers through his hair. "I mean, yeah I wanted to, but I didn't force myself on her! I thought she was into it, into me! I mean…she was, wasn't she?"

Lance's eyes widened impossibly further, panic creeping into his voice. "Oh God...wh-what if I read the entire thing wrong? What if she wasn't into me? My God I really _did_ didn't I?"

"Lance stop," Shiro commanded, placing a hand on his shoulder; immediately Lance stopped, chest heaving. "You did nothing wrong, alright?"

Hunk nodded. "Yeah dude, I thought you were about to get a girlfriend!"

"I wouldn't have made fun of you if I didn't think she was into you," Pidge supplied; Lance smiled weakly, sniffling.

"Th-Thanks guys…"

"What's the situation look like Coran," Shiro asked; as soon as Shiro had finished reading the blurb, Coran had pulled out of his phone and begun checking the state of the tour. Coran was frowning as he stared as his phone, worry lines creasing his forehead.

"Erm, not good I'm afraid." Coran sighed, "I've gotten multiple forwarded messages asking if tickets are refundable, people talking about boycotting future events, and donations have stopped completely to the Balmera conservation effort."

The bus's horn giving a prolonged honk was the only indication of Allura's displeasure. Shiro sighed as he glanced towards the driver's seat; Lance chewed on his bottom lip.

"I have to talk about it," Lance said finally. He continued as everyone began to speak out. "If I talk about it, maybe I can convince people that she's lying! Or, or at the very least, that this is was all just one huge misunderstanding and I'm the sorriest I've ever been in my entire life!"

"We do need to release an official statement on the matter…" Coran muttered, stroking his mustache. "But, we should do it through the official channels rather than through your personal account."

"But I'll look even more guilty if I don't say anything!"

"Lance is right," Keith said; all eyes focused on him as it was the first he had spoken up. "If he stays quiet, it looks like he has nothing to say to defend himself. And while apologizing makes it look like he's guilty of _something_ , it at least shows he's remorseful for what happened."

"Please Coran," Lance begged, looking up at him. "Let me try to make this right."

Corna met his gaze; it was apparent he was mentally going through every pro and con for each situation. Finally, he sighed, shoulders sagging with the weight of his decision. "Very well; defend yourself."

* * *

After the initial discovery Lance had launched himself into going on every social media site he had access to, proclaiming his innocence and announcing that he was sorry if he made Nyma feel uncomfortable at any point. Some fans bought it, especially when backed up by the other members of the band and their accounts of the night; a majority would send hateful messages about how terrible they all were for defending him. But while it had certainly slowed down, people began donating and buying tickets for their events again. For a little bit, everything felt like it had returned to normal for the most part; one night, however, sent everything into a different light.

Keith was walking up the stairwell of the hotel that Allura had budgeted for their tour. It wasn't anything grand, but it was nicer than the bus and most roadside motels; it didn't induce any feelings of claustrophobia, that was for sure. He was coming back from the workout room, itching for a hot shower before passing out in his bed. His daydream of steaming hot water and fluffy comforters though was punctured by the echo of Lance's voice in the stairwell.

"¿Qué quieres decir con que alguien acosó a María en la escuela?" Lance shouted; it sounded like he was a few floors up. "¿Cómo saben dónde va, cómo se ve ella? …. _¿Saben dónde vives?_ "

Keith flinched at the panic in Lance's voice. "¿Alguien dijo qué a Mark? Mierda," A crash could be heard followed by a hissed curse. "¿Por qué no me lo dijiste antes? … _Sí, me gustaría saber!_ Él es mi hermano!"

A defeated sigh was heard; Keith could practically see the slump of Lance's shoulders as he leaned against the concrete walls. "Está bien mama, solo ... solo dime que algo así pasa."

A sudden tenseness entered the air after he had said that. "¿Qué es?" He asked tentatively. Silence was heard, most likely an explanation from Lance's mother. Suddenly a choked gasp was heard, as if Lance was forcing himself to stay composed. "A-Allie preguntó si era verdad, ¿eh? Y-Y le dijiste que no lo era, ¿no?"

A pause so powerful took hold; Lance repeated himself, desperation in his voice. " _Mamá_!"

A whimper echoed in the stairwell. "M-Mamá… _Mamá_ …"

Keith backtracked out of the stairwell to allow Lance privacy to sob alone. As he stored down the hallway towards the elevator, everything had a red tinge; how _dare_ someone do this? Sure, Lance may have been obnoxious and sometimes downright petty, but he didn't deserve this. Didn't deserve his family being dragged into this mess caused by some…some fame hungry groupies whose idea of a fancy night out was a fucking _dive bar_ on the side of the interstate. In his blind rage, Keith hadn't realized where he was until Pidge opened the door to her room; from within, he could hear the sounds of some dubstep or electronic house music that Pidge usually listened to when she was tinkering.

"What is it…?" She asked, caution evident in her voice; Keith was sure that he looked downright murderous in that moment.

"Can you track Rolo and Nyma down?"

Her eyebrows raised in surprise as she blinked owlishly up at him; he caught a glimpse of Hunk trying to discretely look at the door, soldering tool in hand. "I mean, without my equipment back home, it'll be hard-"

"That's not what I'm asking. I'm asking if you can."

Slowly, a devious grin made its way onto her face as realization dawned on her. "Step into my office," She replied, moving aside to let Keith in. He stalked inside the room, the door swinging shut behind them.

* * *

Rolo groaned, shutting the door with his foot as he dragged himself into the apartment. Nyma was sprawled on the too small couch, limbs hanging off the edge; Rolo grinned, the sight reminding him that with the next batch of money they were about to receive, they'd be able to afford a couch as big as a bed. His daydream of domestic luxury was cut short as his phone rang; grumbling, he dug it out of his pocket.

"Yeah," He snapped, not in the mood to talk after having spent a sixteen-hour shift working in customer service.

"This is Keith Kogane, and we know where you live. If you confess to lying now, this will be the end of it. I will not look for you; I will not pursue you. But if you don't, I _will_ look for you, I will _find_ you and not only will I be taking your ass to court…" His voice dropped to a deadly whisper, "I'll take your ass out to the God damn woods and _I will_ _ **kill**_ _you_."

* * *

The scream and curse words from the other end of the line shouldn't have filled Keith with a deep sense of joy, but they did. Pidge and Hunk grinned beside him, clearly imagining the spectacle on the other end of the line.

" _Nyma, Nyma wake the_ _ **fuck**_ _up! They know where we live!"_

"Best day ever." Pidge said, leaning back in her chair.

" _Yes I'm serious, they're on the phone right now!"_

"What about the day I called Allura a bitch to her face?"

"Ooh, that _is_ a pretty close second."

"I can't believe you basically quoted Taken," Hunk said, looking up from the gadget lying in his lap. Keith shrugged, attention focused on what Hunk was working on now that he had properly expressed his rage to its source.

" _Okay, hello?"_ Rolo's panicked voice came out over the speaker; the trio quieted as he continued to speak, words tumbling over each other. _"Nyma's working on it all right now, I swear! Just, please just, leave us alone."_

"As long as we see it in the next 24 hours," Keith said, a smirk on his lips, "Otherwise, well, we'll get in touch."

With that, he hung up and turned his full attention to Pidge and Hunk. "So what are you guys working on?"

Pidge and Hunk's smiles only grew. "Something that Allura banned us from doing on the bus because it involves fire and would honestly probably get us kicked out of the hotel if we're caught." Pidge explained, pushing her glasses up her nose.

"We already covered the smoke detectors and opened the windows," Hunk added, mask already flipped down as he worked to get the flame back to life.

"You wanna help," Pidge asked, already turning back to her laptop and pulling up the house music playlist that had been playing previously. Keith considered them for a minute before shrugging, heading towards the bathroom.

"I'll stuff towels under the door to keep smoke from escaping and keep lookout." He called back; Pidge and Hunk merely high-fived as they got back to work.

* * *

Lance stared up at the ceiling from his sprawled position on the common room couch, completely in shock at the turn of events from the Balmeran tour. Nyma and Rolo had come out with hundreds of emails between them and Galra, saying that they had been hired to frame Lance for the assault in order to damage Voltron's reputation, stop the Balmeran Charity Tour, and effectively derail all conservation efforts. They had come clean due to what they called an 'anonymous persuasive discussion', and had even donated the second half of their payment to the conservation efforts. Now every news outlet's focus was on Galra and the conservation efforts for Balmera, and people were flooding out of the woodwork to protest. At the rate everything was moving, Zarkon's zoning licenses would be revoked, and they'd be kicked off the land. And all of it was thanks to the one person he knew who could have tracked total strangers down without much to go on, who just so happened to walk into the room with her face buried in her phone.

"Hey Pidge," He called out; Pidge's head snapped upwards, startled out of her tech world. "I just wanted to say, thanks for saving my ass."

Pidge smiled, plopping herself beside him. "No problem," She said, turning back to her phone; Lanc could see it was some mobile game. "But really you should be thanking Keith; he's the one who demanded I tread the line between what's legal and illegal."

Lance blinked, not expecting that. "Wait…Keith?"

Pidge nodded, eyes still glued to her phone. "Yeah, he came to my room while we were at that one hotel. You know, the one that looked like a complete dump on the outside but was kinda nice on the inside? Except for the continental breakfast; that shit was _nasty_."

"Yeah yeah yeah, back to Keith."

"Right. Anyway, he came up to my room looking like he wanted to murder somebody. I assumed you had done something to piss him off, which stunned my because he usually goes to Shiro when he's upset at you? But then he asked me if I could track Nyma and Rolo down, and after I said I could well, the rest is history."

Lance nodded, going back to staring up at the ceiling as he processed this information. He remembered that night vividly; his mother had called, hysterical that reporters had harassed his sister Maria at school. It had escalated quickly as he found out that not only had that happened, but reporters knew where his family lived and were hounding them constantly. Then, someone had told his brother to 'go back to Mexico and rape your own women'; if Lance had been there, that racist would've gotten a solid right hook to the face. To top it all off, his youngest sister Allie had asked if Lance had really done everything people said he did; but the icing was that his mom hadn't blindly defended him. No, instead she had told Allie to 'think about who Lance is, and if someone like him would do something like that'. That had been the point when Lance began sobbing, stressed and tired beyond the point of caring who in the stairwell heard him. He only just now realized that maybe someone actually _had_ heard him, and that that someone might actually _do_ something to rectify the situation.

Damn, he really needed to go find Keith now and swear to never be an asshole again.

* * *

Lance took a deep breath as he stood outside Keith's door, hand poised to knock. He could do this, he told himself; after all, this is just the amazing Lance going to talk to Keith. Keith who had, with Pidge's assistance, saved his ass from the bad pressed caused by Nyma and Rolo.

Before he gave himself any chance to overthink the implications of that statement, he knocked on the door. A muffled 'it's open' was heard, and Lance steeled himself as he turned the knob; no backing out now.

Keith was sitting on the couch, book propped open in his hands. He stared at Lance with a raised eyebrow, seemingly confused at why he was standing in his doorway. "What do you want," He asked, closing his book.

Lance took another deep breath, swallowing what little left of his pride he had after this ordeal. "So uh, I talked with Pidge…" He began, rubbing the back of his neck; that corner of the ceiling was _very_ interesting. "And, uh, she said that…well, that you were the one who got Nyma and Rolo to 'fess up."

"Yeah, and?"

Lance felt a flush creep over his face. "And well, first of all thanks and everything, super great thing you did there. But uh, well, I guess…why?"

Keith blinked, surprise flitting over his features at Lance's question. "Lance you were seriously upset; like hell I was going to let that slide."

Lance blinked, mind slowly processing everything Keith said. "What?"

Keith tipped his head back in the couch, looking to the ceiling as if it had the answers. "You weren't yourself Lance, and I just…I dunno, I couldn't stand seeing you like that."

"Thought you couldn't stand me period?"

Keith snorted. "As true as that is, this was different. Someone was hurting my friend and teammate, and I wasn't going to stand around and do nothing."

"Wait a minute…" Lance interrupted, a slow smile creeping across his face. "You consider me a friend?"

A sudden sense of trepidation filled Keith at the look on Lance's face; unfortunately, he always did have a failed sense of self-preservation. "…Yes…" He spoke; his fears were instantly validated as Lance saddled up beside him on the couch, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"You, Keith Kogane, think of me, your eternal rival Lance McClain, as a friend?"

"I'm starting to regret answering," Keith muttered, hoping that would end wherever this was going; Lance however elected to ignore it.

"Aww, don't be shy," Lance cooed, slinging an arm around Keith's shoulders and ignoring the glare he was given. "No need to be tsundere about finally having warmed up to my irresistible charm and naturally fantastic personality."

"Wha…" Keith's mouth opened and closed, face resembling a gasping fish. "I am not a tsundere!"

"That's just what a tsundere would say," Lance sang, earning a groan from Keith.

"I will personally chain you to a post myself and leave you there."

"Kinky," Lance said, winking; he was rewarded by Keith shoving him off the couch and onto the floor. Keith smirked, opening his book again and resuming reading.

"Keith," Lance whined, "How could you treat your new friend that way?"

"What's that? I…I-I can't…I think you're breaking up."

Lance huffed, muttering about rude mullets. He stared up at the ceiling, the only noise in the following moments the echoing ticks of a clock somewhere in the apartment and the occasional flip of a page.

"Hey Keith," Lance said, poking his leg with his foot. Keith gave a grunt, indicating he was listening. "…Thanks. I…It was really nice of you man. I appreciate it."

"…Don't mention it," Keith mumbled, eyes looking down at Lance from the book. Lance grinned as he met his gaze, sending a thumbs up. Keith rolled his eyes, head shaking slightly as he resumed reading.

Lance smiled as his eyes closed, willing to admit to himself that maybe, _just_ maybe, Keith could be a half-decent person when he wanted. Of course, he'd willingly take that thought with him to his grave and never breathe a word to a single living soul. But, a few flattering Instagram photos would certainly be worth a thousand words.

* * *

 **A/N: Is it as good as the first chapter? *shrugs* Probably not, but whatever.**


	3. When Hunk Met Shay

**A/N: Prequel to** _ **The Nyma Situation**_ **.**

* * *

Despite the air conditioning running on full blast throughout the building Hunk could still feel the sweat running down the side of his face, the orange headband tied around his forehead doing nothing to deter its path. He set the box down in front of the elevator, groaning at the dull ache in his arms and back making itself more pronounced. He leaned back, pressing his palms into his lower back; a small crack followed by a release of tension produced a sigh of relief. Satisfied with his stretch Hunk picked up the list lying on the table next to the box, scanning the list of items that Pidge requested and that Coran had sworn were buried somewhere in the company's storage room.

On the last group expedition into the room they had come across some special effect gadgets and a box of crystals that Coran had stated came from an area known as Balmera. Pidge and Hunk had immediately confiscated the items and begun talks of upgrading the equipment, excitement glittering in their eyes and the conversation going over everyone's head save for Coran who promised to assist whenever he wasn't busy assisting Allura with other duties. Thus began an endeavor that would encompass the entire common area, last for multiple months, and train everyone to be proficient in putting out electrical fires and using a fire extinguisher to the point that it became second nature. It had been a very rough couple of months for Shiro, who every time he saw a gadget burst into flames would freeze as he flashbacked to his accident.

(In an unexpected twist, it had actually been Keith who seemed to already perform it automatically. When asked, he merely shrugged and replied that they "weren't the first ones trying to burn down where I live."

They weren't entirely sure if they wanted him to elaborate, so it was left at that.)

After they had finished their modifications and testing, it was deemed ready to debut on their first tour, taking place during the summer. The response from critics had been unanimous: the show they had put on using the modified tech and crystals had been spectacular, and that if they kept it up with the music they were producing they were surely on the fast track to becoming one of the biggest names in the industry. Keeping that in mind and eyes shining with the fire that only thoughts of overtaking Zarkon could produce, Allura had ordered Pidge and Hunk to expand upon the original model in any and every way possible.

"You sure everything she needs is in these?" Hunk asked, glancing up at Coran. The other man carefully placed a box onto the trolley before straightening up.

"Of course I'm sure," Coran sounded offended at Hunk for even entertaining the thought he was potentially wrong, "I was the one who oversaw the cataloguing and labeling of every single one of those boxes down there; if anyone would know, it'd be me!"

"Just saying, Pidge gets really mad when her requests aren't met." Hunk conceded, hands raised defensively. Coran nodded, stroking his mustache as the elevator doors opened with a tinny _ding_.

"Quite alright; we all have moments of doubt." Coran replied, picking up a box that didn't fit onto the trolley and entering the elevator. Hunk walked behind him, pushing the heavy trolley with ease. He leaned against the handle, eyebrow raising as he watched Coran press not only the button for their rooms, but also for the lobby.

"Uh…Don't we have to drop this off to Pidge," Hunk asked, gesturing at the boxes littering the elevator. Coran hummed, shifting his grip on the box he was carrying.

"I called our previous Balmeran crystal supplier and asked them to come out today." Coran glanced at his watch as best he could with the box blocking his view. "They should be arriving any minute now, and someone needs to be at the door to greet them."

"Oh, uh, alright then," Hunk replied, straightening up. "I guess I'll just drop these off to Pidge and see you in a later then?"

"Nonsense," Coran sniffed, "If I let you and Pidge have at it without properly overseeing the initial box opening myself, this building is liable to burst into flames!"

"You let _one_ little fire get half a centimeter out of a containment zone, and everyone holds it against you." Hunk grumbled. That one hadn't even been either of their faults as their good-natured and well-meaning Blue Paladin had accidentally caused the miniature spread in his attempts to put it out; yet everyone always pointed the blame back to Pidge and Hunk.

"So I believe it is in the group's best interests to have you waiting while I make sure everything is in order before coming to down to greet them myself!" Coran said, ignoring Hunk's grumblings. "Besides, it shows that our Paladins have a healthy interest in all workings of the company, a trait that our previous Paladins were well-known for."

"True," Hunk nodded as the doors opened. He stepped out, giving a brief wave as Coran shooed him out. As soon as the doors had closed Hunk sighed, shoulders hunching into a tired slouch. He began his stroll down the hallway, pulling out his phone; if he was going to be sitting and waiting for someone, he might as well get some social media in before he buries himself into work with Pidge.

He saw that Lance had posted one of his morning selfies, telling his followers to have a day as beautiful as he was; vain and potentially flirtatious, but certainly well-meaning. The next thing he saw was a post from Pidge of all the boxes they had brought up in the first round, captioned that Christmas had come early; the rest of the allotted character limit was taken up by exclamation points and emoticons indicating her excitement. Immediately following it was a video Lance had taken, the still shot being Pidge's legs sticking out from a box as big as she was; Hunk pressed play, already feeling the smile take over his face. Pidge's legs immediately began flailing about as she tossed various items out of the box.

"Oh, if we recalibrate _this_ , then we could do _that_ , and and oh my God guys just _look_ at this!"

"Yeah Shiro look," Lance's voice came out; it was obvious he was trying very hard to not burst into laughter. The camera panned over to Shiro, who was staring at Pidge while holding his coffee mug with a look that they had dubbed Shiro's "My contract did not say I had to care for four overgrown children". Slowly Shiro turned to the camera with the look on his face; this, coupled by Pidge's squeal and Lance's failure to contain himself as his snort indicated were Hunk's undoing. He wasn't sure how long he had been laughing, but the next thing he knew he was leaning against the wall in the lobby, holding his stomach as he tried to catch his breath.

"Um, sir, are you alright?"

Hunk exhaled, wiping his eyes as he put his phone away. "Oh yeah, I'm totally fine Miss…uh…"

In that moment, Hunk's breath was stolen away for a completely different reason. Standing in front of him was a young woman around his age staring at him with eyes the color of honey filled with concern. Her black hair was cropped close to her head, the tight curls so small and close to her head that one could almost imagine her wearing a textured swim cap. The large, thin golden hoops hanging off her ears glinted in the sunlight filtering through the windows; they matched the golden patterns that started at her sleeves and went down the sides of her dark green dress. He couldn't help but notice how the dress complimented her dark skin tone, the color of the earth after having been soothed by a desperately needed rainstorm. Cinching her waist was a brown belt, accentuating the curves created by her thick hips, thighs, and ample chest. But what caught Hunk's attention the most was the kindness in her voice, the softness that she addressed him with as she looked up at him; her eyebrows scrunched together cutely, he noted.

"-ir? Sir, can you hear me?"

Hunk shook his head, snapped out of his daydream. "Sorry, what was that? I uh…I kinda spaced out for a second." He'd have to remember to go back into the security footage and delete this moment, lest Pidge find it and play it for the entire team to see.

The woman's shoulders sagged with relief, a hand placed over her heart. "Oh, it's alright. My name is Shay; I was told to come here by a Mister…Coran, was it?"

"That would be correct!"

Hunk jumped, whirling around to find Coran standing in the doorway, the end of a mustache pinched between his thumb and index finger. Hunk didn't have long to wonder how long Coran had been standing there, as the man gave him a conspiratorial smile and clasped him on the shoulder.

"And this fine young chap right here is our kind and compassionate Yellow Paladin, Hunk," Coran pointed at Hunk, tone belying the rapidly unfolding plot in his mind. "Quite the catch if I do say so myself; strong bass voice, always there with a shoulder to cry on and an ear to listen, and quite a brilliant engineer!"

" _Coran_ ," Hunk groaned, tilted his head back; he heard Shay giggle and felt a flush begin on his face. Coran merely waved his hand, continuing onward with listing Hunk's merits.

"That's not even mentioning the fact that his cooking is phenomenal! Or well, that's what the other paladins say; I myself prefer my own creations."

"Perhaps if my business today lasts until the evening, I can be an unbiased judge," Shay offered, "If, of course, you'll have me."

"Of course I'll have you!" Hunk shouted; his face flushed a darker shade as Shay stared openly at him, a light blush on her own face. "I uh, I-I mean… _we'll_ have you. _We_ , as in all of us. Coran, Allura, Keith, Pidge, Shiro, and Lance included. Not just me. Heh…hehe…"

What little dignity Hunk had left was salvaged when Coran cleared his throat, drawing both young adults' attention to him. "Well, I'll let Allura know that our guest has arrived! In the meantime, Hunk, why don't you escort Ms. Shay and introduce her to the other paladins? I'm sure they'll be delighted to meet her."

"Right," Hunk exclaimed, nodding enthusiastically, "I'll get on that right now!"

Coran smiled, giving a small nod before turning on his heel to notify Allura. Hunk gave a small smile, rubbing the back of his neck as he turned to fully face Shay once again.

"So…." Hunk leaned forward on the balls of his feet, falling back on his heels as he jerked his thumb at the door. "Shall we, you know…meet the guys?"

Shay nodded, returning his small smile with a large one of her own. "I'd like that."

* * *

As Hunk and Shay surveyed the common area before them Hunk realized that, in retrospect, when he was talking about his teammates he should have probably mentioned how quickly they were able to take a relatively normal setting and utterly _destroy_ it.

"Shiro," Pidge shouted, head popping out of the box she had seated herself in; various wires and cords hung limply from her head, "Do you _see_ this? I could make a fog machine that's ten times-no wait, _twenty_ times more powerful than what we could buy from a supplier!"

"That's great to hear Pidge." Shiro grunted, readjusting his grip on Keith, who he was currently holding under his arm like a football. "So help me if _you don't stop_..."

"Yeah Keith, listen to Shiro." Lance taunted, daring to lean forward from his safe distance from the Red Paladin. He yelped as Keith attempted to lunge at Lance, only for Shiro to successfully hold him back.

"Just try me Lance, I _dare_ you." He snarled, pounding and clawing at Shiro's prosthetic in an attempt to get at Lance. So preoccupied with his attempts at escape that he barely seemed to notice the water dripping into his eyes from his hair, or the fact that he was only clad in a bath towel hanging low on his hips in a room full of people; a fact that everyone else seemed fine with ignoring.

"Uh…hey guys," Hunk called; the noise disappeared as all eyes trained themselves on Hunk; he gave a slight wave. "What's uh…what's happening?"

"Oh nothing much, just Pidge living her dream as a hoarder and Keith fulfilling his life goal of being a nudist murderer." Lance shrugged, gesturing idly at the aforementioned people. Pidge merely rolled her eyes as she went back to digging into her box, while Keith appeared to be trying to kill Lance using only his glare. "The more important question is, _who_ is your lady friend?"

Four audible groans could be heard as Shay giggled, stepping forward and holding out her hand. "My name is Shay; my family and I supply Balmeran crystals and other natural products to companies and private buyers throughout the country."

Lance grasped her hand gently, bending at the waist to press a light kiss to the back of her palm. "Well the name's Lance, and I supply all the lovely ladies around here with a good time if they so desire." He finished his spiel with a wink and giving her a flirtatious smirk; Shay blushed, pressing her other hand to her mouth as she giggled.

"What woman besides your mom have you shown a good time Lance?" Pidge asked, popping back out of the box like a prairie dog. Lance squawked in embarrassment, storming over to Pidge while avoiding the haphazardly strewn about pieces of equipment.

"I'll have you know I've taken _plenty_ of girls out!"

"Pics or it didn't happen."

As Lance scrambled to pull out his phone to show Pidge his many senior year dates, Shiro stepped forward with Keith still under his arm. "Sorry about all this," Shiro said, extending his left arm out to her; Shay returned the firm handshake. "My name is Shiro, over there in the box is Pidge, and this is Keith."

"Who you can set down _any_ time now," Keith grumbled, arms crossed over his chest as he glared up at Shiro. Shiro met his gaze with a look that easily could have been interpreted as a young father having to explain to a stubborn child for the hundredth time why no, he could _not_ do that.

"I told you, not until I'm sure you won't try to kill Lance in a blind rage."

" _He_ taped stupid cat memes all over _my_ room!"

"You've seemed grouchy lately, so I thought you'd want to be surrounded by your people." Lance shot from across the room, spurring another round of struggling from Keith. Pidge swiped through Lance's phone, face scrunched in deep concentration as she went through every last picture of Lance's dates.

"Lance this chick is from a perfume ad; you did _not_ date her."

"Rude," Lance huffed, running his fingers through his hair, "I easily won her over with my charms, and she agreed to pose for me!"

Pidge rolled her eyes, tossing the phone back to Lance as she dove back into her box. "Right, and Coran and I are debating our wedding date to either April fifth or May fourth."

As Lance and Pidge began to bicker over whether or not Lance _could_ date a perfume model, Hunk felt his shoulders slump forward in defeat, an apology already on his lips. All words died in his throat though as Shay turned towards him, mirth causing her eyes to glitter like warm amber in the sunlight. He knew he was most likely gaping like a fish but, if he were being honest, if this was the result of getting to hear her laugh then he'd gladly engineer himself a set of gills to complete the look.

"Grandmother told stories of the old Paladins, but from her stories I'd imagined you being more…stiff." She explained, taking Hunk's struck face as one for confusion. "I had gotten myself so nervous before this meeting that, well…to see you all relaxed like this, is just such a relief!"

Hunk shook his head to gather his thoughts. "Haha, yup, that's us! The most relaxed group of Paladins you'll ever meet! Always ready to kick back and make you feel at home!"

He didn't have to take his eyes off Shay to know that four pairs of eyes were watching him, so potent was their attention. He imagined the gears of each mind turning at varying speeds, each one separately but eventually reaching the same conclusion. The switch in atmosphere from playful to a united mischievous front was palpable enough that Hunk felt himself sweat for a completely different reason than before; thankfully Shay seemed oblivious. Luckily for Hunk, the four were so engrossed in a silent conversation over who would begin the torrential downpour of well-meaning intentions to help Hunk that the release of pressure came from Coran and Allura entering the common area via the elevator.

"Welcome to Altea," Allura said, extending her hand to Shay, "My name is Allura, and I am the one who owns the company. I hope my Paladins have been treating you…well…"

Similar to the switch in attitude among the paladins, Shay was oblivious to the fact that Allura's cordial and warm expression belied her unspoken promise that the shenanigans they pulled would not go unpunished. How she always knew what happened was still up for debate as there were no security cameras in the living quarters, although they could cross of the theory of someone tattling off the list.

"They've been wonderful hosts." Shay replied, pulling her hand back from the handshake. "They've certainly set any worries I had at ease."

Allura blinked, clearly taken aback by that admission. "Well…If you'll follow Coran and I, we'll lead you to the meeting room downstairs. Paladins," She turned to address the group; everyone straightened up immediately, "I expect everyone downstairs in ten minutes, both on their best behavior _and_ appropriately dressed."

None of them could have helped the snicker at the comment even if they had been unable to hear it; Keith's facial expression said all that was needed.

* * *

Hunk sighed as he lay on the couch, staring up at the ceiling with a dreamy smile on his face. He had tried to pay attention during the meeting, even bringing a notebook to take notes. But all he could focus on was Shay; her voice, the way the fluorescent lights gave her an ethereal glow, the hand gestures she made as she explained what functions of the company were still active. His notebook that he had brought to take studious notes was filled with lackadaisical doodles of Shay, either of her profile or of certain aspects that he had found himself fascinated with during the meeting. Lance and Pidge had silently teased him throughout the meeting, only to stop whenever Shiro scolded the three of them for not paying attention; Keith, blessed Keith who was sitting next to Shiro, only shot knowing smirks Hunk's way whenever he was caught. The next thing Hunk clearly remembered was them saying their goodbyes to Shay after having secured a contract and Lance handing Shay his number with the promise to talk to her soon.

" _Guess I never did stand a chance…"_ Hunk sighed, rolling over onto his side as he curled up slightly. Before he could get deep into self-deprecation though he felt his phone buzz in his pocket; most likely Lance or Pidge asking for something, despite the five of them living on the same floor. He unlocked his phone, tapping on the message icon and skimming the message. As he finished though his entire body went rigid, eyes wide with shock; he jolted upright, phone clutched in both hands as a furious flush came over his face.

 _Hey! This is Shay, from earlier? Lance said this was Hunk's number, so…yeah. Hope this isn't weird!_

" _Lance,"_ Hunk squealed, throwing himself back on the couch and flailing with joy. He should've known he could count on his best friend since high school.

" _What can I say except, you're welcome,"_ Lance sang, voice carrying through the walls as he did his best Maui impression.

* * *

Ever since that first text Shay had sent, Hunk and her had been communicating daily via text about how their days were going, learning more about each other with every message sent. For example, Hunk learned that she had an older brother named Rax, and that the both of them worked in the shop that her parents owned after her grandmother had become too elderly to run it herself. However, she stressed, her grandmother came in daily to do little things and chat with any customers that happened to stop in; apparently retirement did not sit well with the older woman. He also learned more serious matters, like how Galra was determined to buy out the town and have a monopoly on the crystals in the caverns as well as build some garish concert hall that would destroy the ecosystem of the surrounding area.

Speaking of the ecosystem, the town and its woods were breathtaking; Shay always managed to send him at least one photo of the area after he had expressed interest in seeing the landscape one day. His phone's album became a collection of saved images of sunlight streaming through thick foliage in different parts of the forest, of the crystals scattered around cavern openings glittering brilliant fiery hues in the setting sun, and of her family's daily activities against the background of the quaint town. He made sure to return the favor, taking pictures of life around the city and of his teammates' antics: Lance and Keith being pulled apart by their ears courtesy of Allura and Shiro, Pidge instructing Coran and Lance to hold specific positions with various wires and cords as she tinkered with larger systems, and Coran's various meals were more of his notable shots. Slowly their shots evolved into featuring their faces; Shay taking a selfie on a hill watching as the sun rose over the caverns, Hunk sending selfies with his kitchen creations. Everything was going spectacularly well in Hunk's opinion, which is why he was so confused when the day was almost over and he had yet to hear from Shay.

Hunk sighed, fiddling with his phone as he lay sprawled out on the couch in the common area. Pidge lifted her head up from the device she was working on and that he was supposed to be assisting with, a frown marring her features.

"You've been staring at your phone all day and sighing wistfully. I'm sure that your girlfriend is just busy with something."

"She's not my girlfriend!" Hunk jolted upwards into a sitting position, flush spreading across his cheeks. "She's just a rock enthusiast whom I happen to admire and respect very much!"

"We talking about Hunk's girlfriend?" Lance asked, coming out of the kitchen carrying granola bars; he tossed one to Pidge, who caught it easily before turning back to her work. He jumped over the back of the couch, bouncing twice before settling in to sit beside Hunk; he casually offered a bar to Hunk.

"She is _not_ my girlfriend," Hunk groaned, snatching the bar from Lance's hands. From behind they could hear the elevator ding, indicating Shiro and Keith had returned from their workout routine together.

"Yeah," Pidge spoke from the floor, choosing to ignore Hunk's protest, "Apparnetly she hasn't talked to him all day."

"Oof, I hate when that happens," Lance placed a comforting hand on Hunk's shoulder, "One minute everything is going swimmingly and then _boom!_ Radio silence city; population, you. Worst part is you never know why it happened."

"I have a few guesses about why it happened to you," Keith offered; Lance snapped his head in Keith's direction, his glare sharp as he immediately retorted, arms gesticulating wildly. Hunk barely noticed though, so preoccupied with his thoughts about what was happening with Shay, about what he possibly could have done wrong. They had been talking every day by this point, even if they were just brief messages or pictures to let the other know that they were thinking of them; maybe he had been coming off too strong and ended up making her feel uncomfortable? Before he could follow the thought down the dark hole it led to, he felt a strong hand on his shoulder grounding him back to the present. He looked up, meeting Shiro's gentle gray gaze, a small supportive smile on his face.

"Don't worry too much Hunk," Shiro gave a gentle squeeze, "I'm sure she's just having a busy day."

Hunk nodded, already feeling the tension and worry leaving his mind at that simple statement. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket, his ringtone suddenly blaring out loud; he took one glance at the name on the screen before the world seemed to stop in that moment. He blinked multiple times to make sure he wasn't hallucinating, but the name stayed the same no matter how hard he blinked.

"Guys," Hunk shouted, slapping Lance in the chest multiple times, "Guys, she's calling! Shay's actually calling me!"

Instantly the atmosphere changed; Lance leaned heavily against Hunk as Shiro leaned down, eyebrow cocked in surprise. Pidge had abandoned her work and was kneeling in front of Hunk, squirming her way between Lance's stomach and Hunk's thighs to stare at the screen. Hunk suddenly felt someone breathing over the top of his head, and assumed that somehow Keith had quickly taken position behind them.

"Well what are you waiting for? Pick it up!" Lance shook Hunk's shoulder, every molecule of his being seeming to vibrate with excitement. Shiro Pidge, and Keith nodded in agreement, seemingly holding their breath as if afraid that one puff of air would blow the entire situation away. Hunk pushed the accept button on his phone, trembling as he raised the phone to his ear.

"Uh, h-hey," Hunk winced, hearing his voice crack; he coughed to get himself back under control. "Hey Shay, how's it going?"

Everyone watched expectantly; a feeling of dread formed as they watched Hunk's face fall from its excited smile to a look of concern. Hunk stood up and began pacing, forcing Pidge to move in order to avoid being trampled. They all shared a look before Lance and Pidge scrambled to their feet to follow Hunk around the room, Keith jumping over the couch in order to follow with Shiro trailing closely behind.

"I need you to slow down Shay, I can't…. I can't understand a thing."

"Can you hear anything," Shiro mumbled; Lance and Pidge shook their heads, frowning heavily.

"Ugh, no, it's all muffled." Lance grumbled, glancing over at Keith, "What about you cat boy?"

"Just breathe with me now, okay? In…and out…."

Keith crossed his arms over his chest, fixing an annoyed glare at Lance. "One, no I can't. Two, just because I sometimes fall asleep during the day does not make me a cat."

"You were curled up on Kaltenecker one time, don't lie to us," Pidge shot back; Keith merely huffed in annoyance.

"Okay, now start from the beginning for me." Hunk said gently, immediately directing their attention back to the task at hand. Similar to ants on a piece of candy they swarmed around Hunk, each trying to press their ear as close to the phone as possible without interrupting the flow of conversation. Hunk stepped away from them, shooting them an annoyed look as he nodded along to whatever Shay was saying. Quickly the annoyance melted away to reveal a mixture of surprise and concern, his body drooping like a man who has been dealt a crushing blow. Lance was immediately at his side, wrapping an arm around his friend's shoulder; Hunk glanced at him, reading his unspoken question before turning to address the rest of the group.

"She…" Hunk swallowed past the lump in his throat, "Sh-She said that Galra now owns Balmera."

The silence that followed could only be categorized as the oppressive kind that accompanies the deep sense of dread and despair. As Hunk turned away from the group to continue consoling Shay, the other three turned to Shiro as if he had all the answers they needed.

"They can't do this!" Lance shouted, the first to break the silence; he threw his hands into the air as he began to pace. "I mean _can_ they even do this? This has to be illegal right?"

"I…I don't know," Shiro admitted, left hand running through his hair, "They kept the idols as far away from the legal department as possible, and ran us ragged to make sure we were too exhausted to even consider looking it up ourselves."

"Even if it is illegal, they have enough people in their pocket to get around it and basically bypass every human right in existence." Keith muttered darkly, glaring down at the floor. The words were so biting and harsh that the others couldn't help but be surprised they hadn't flinched as he spoke them. In the midst of their thoughts, Hunk's soothing voice broke through as a balm to their frazzled minds.

"Shay? I…I know it doesn't look like it now, but…but everything's gonna be alright. We're not gonna let them do this; _I'm_ not gonna let them do this." Hunk paused, listening to Shay's response. "Of course we'll help you fight him. We'll host concerts to raise money for you guys to buy out Galra! And, and you guys can protest and work on drumming up support from other people!"

Each of the paladins felt their own worries being put at ease as Hunk continued. "…Of course I think we have a chance. I wouldn't be saying all this if I didn't."

The warm comfort that began by listening to Hunk continued to grow as the young man smiled softly at whatever Shay had said. "Hey, any time. I can't let a jerk like Zarkon make someone important to me cry."

The light blush overtook Hunk's face, none of it going unnoticed by the paladins. "O-Of course you're important to me!" Hunk stammered, rocking on his heels as he spoke. "I mean, cuz like…I like you. Like, a lot."

Shiro smiled fondly at Hunk, while Pidge merely stared up at the ceiling muttering what sounded like 'finally' under her breath. Lance jumped in place, hands covering his mouth in an attempt to muffle the squeaking gasp that left his mouth as his head continually snapped back and forth between Hunk and observing the reactions of his fellow paladins. Keith huffed, rolling his eyes at Lance's overexcitement but unable to keep his own smile off his face. Their joy was short lived though as Hunk continued to talk, mouth clearly unable to quit due to nerves.

"A-As a super best friend though," Hunk managed to squeak out, face burning hotter with every passing second, "Cuz, like, we've only known each other for a short time and it'd probably be like…you know, super weird if I just, you know, came out saying I like liked you."

Lance froze, eyes wide with shock at the sudden addition to his confession; Shiro, Keith, and Pidge merely tilted their heads back and groaned. Just as quickly as he froze, Lance returned to action, throwing his hands into his hair with a shout and startling the other paladins.

"Hunk, buddy, _mi amigo_ ," Lance groaned loudly, dragging his hands down his face, "You know my dating history, _this is the farthest thing from super weird_!"

Quickly Keith and Pidge clamped their hands over his mouth in an attempt to muffle the oncoming rant. Hunk glanced over, eyebrow raised as he watched Keith and Pidge dodging Lance's swinging arms as he ranted and raved at what would normally be an ear-splitting volume. In the background Shiro stood pinching the bridge of his nose, shaking his head, most likely contemplating the different choices he could have made to actively avoid his current situation.

"Uh-huh…yeah…" Hunk tore his gaze away from his friends, dedicating his attention back to Shay. "Again, anytime. Alright…. yeah, talk to you soon. Bye."

Hunk ended the call, turning back to his friends; Lance had calmed somewhat, though his chest was heaving from the exertion that he had put himself through. Shiro no longer looked as if he regretted specific life choices and was instead staring expectantly at Hunk. Keith and Pidge looked worse for the wear, sporting mussed up hair and various red spots where Lance had accidentally smacked them in his rage fueled rant. Looking out at his teammates, the people who he knew he needed to get this done, Hunk felt a swell of determination rising in his chest; he clapped his hands together, snapping all attention on him.

"Alright," He rubbed his hands together, a determined grin on his face, "Who wants to help save a town?"

* * *

 **A/N: *shrugs* Meh, I guess this passable.**


	4. Just Another Concert

**A/N: This has no real set time placement, besides not being the first concert ever and maybe not during first major tour. Any songs you see being performed are my own creations.**

* * *

Underneath the red spotlight Pidge sighed, tousling her hair until part of it covered one eye; she made sure to not jostle the headset too much. She crossed her arms over her chest, scowling in the direction of the booth. Readying her diaphragm for the deeper pitch she needed to hit, Pidge slouched and spoke into the mike.

"My name is Keith, and I'm _so_ emo."

The uproar of laughter filling her ears was enough to cause her to break character, a grin spreading across her face. She shielded her eyes from the spotlight, trying to stare up into the booth to no avail; the lighting was designed to keep the audience and booth dark so as not to distract the performers. Judging by the wheezing and difficulty Hunk and Coran had with regaining their breath however, Pidge could safely assume they were doubled over with laughter.

"Okay…okay, okay." Hunk wheezed; she could hear a shifting of a chair in the background. "Oh man, Pidge, you gotta give us some _warning_ next time!"

"I'll admit I certainly wasn't expecting the caricature to be so spot-on!" Coran chimed in; Pidge shrugged, pulling her eyes back to the tablet as she checked on how various systems were running.

"What can I say, I'm a girl of many talents," Pidge tapped a few items, making adjustments. "Now can we check the other lightings and colors?"

"Alright, how about this one?" Hunk asked; the red spotlight disappeared, leaving Pidge cast in the dense darkness of the concert hall. Suddenly she was bathed in blue light, forcing her to blink rapidly to adjust.

"Too easy." Pidge replied, but cleared her throat for the impression anyway. She made sure to straighten her spine, drawing herself up to her full height before beginning to her flail her arms.

"Look at me, I'm Lance!" She squeaked out, voice rough but at a higher pitch than Keith's. "Say, is that a cute girl over there?"

The chuckles in the booth turned into full-blown belly laughter once she swept her hand through her hair and shot finger guns in a random direction, clearly imitating what Lance had trademarked as "his signature move". Pidge felt her own giggles bubbling up in response; she never could keep a straight face for the entirety of this certain pre-concert ritual of theirs.

"Alright," Hunk began, turning the blue light off, "Now how about _this_ one?"

The stage was suddenly flooded in orange light, causing Pidge to blink rapidly both to adjust to the light and in confusion. No one on the team was really associated with the color orange…unless of course you counted…

"You want me to do Coran?" Pidge asked, squinting up at the booth despite being a fruitless endeavor. She could hear Hunk's snickers clearly over Coran's sudden protests, confirming his impression selection. Pidge cleared her throat as she wracked her brain for something so specific to Coran that a complete stranger could understand the type of person that Coran is. Finally, she found the common thread in all of their interactions with Coran and, grasping onto it tightly, raised her finger to her upper lip in a poor imitation of Coran's mustache.

"Blah blah blah," Pidge spoke, voice accented to imitate Coran. "Crazy words; mustache!"

She heard Coran scoff in the headset while Hunk giggled and chortled; she could imagine Coran standing there, arms crossed with his nose in the air while Hunk was bent over, hand failing to stifle his laughter. "I do not sound like that," Coran protested. "And quite honestly I'm insulted that that's how you think of me!"

"I thought it was pretty accurate," Hunk chimed in, having calmed down. "I mean you're always going off on tangents about your younger years with Alfor about things that I'm pretty sure don't exist."

"Yelmores are quite real thank you very much! I'd have evidence too if our camera hadn't run out of film!"

"Plus you stroke your mustache like, all the time. You do it so often that Keith has a theory it's just a sentient caterpillar you found and you can't bear to be apart from it."

Pidge adjusted her headset as she ran through checklists on her tablet. "That reminds me: Hunk, make sure I put vodka on our next shopping list. Those drinks Lance made last time were amazing, and watching Keith pound them back like a champ was _inspiring_."

"You got it."

The spotlight was turned off as the sound of Coran huffing came in clear as a bell. "Alright, well let's just see how _you_ like it!"

The stage was flooded with a bright yellow light; Hunk could be heard shouting as soon as he registered the color change. Pidge rolled her eyes and, despite finding Coran's selection far too simple, readjusted her body position to get the deepest voice she could naturally produce. She bent forward, wrapping both arms tightly around her stomach in a fake effort to keep whatever was coming back up where it belonged.

"Ugh, I don't feel so good," Pidge groaned; she added a small forced burp for good measure, simulating gastric distress. "The smell of this place is gonna make me barf!"

Coran barked out a laugh, forcing a wince out of Pidge as she readjusted her headset. She was quickly thankful for her forethought as Coran yelped, followed by the sounds of a minor scuffle. She could only imagine how Hunk was getting his payback on Coran; most likely by one of his patented Bear Hugs that, when utilized correctly, could be an effective punishment as well as reward.

"Don't break anything," Pidge grumbled into her mike, already back to focusing on the tablet in front of her. From previous experience during concert preparations, Pidge knew they only had a set amount of time before Allura found them and forced them to go prepare with Keith, Lance, and Shiro, leaving Coran with the rest of the set-up work. Luckily, she and Hunk were getting very good at this game of 'Hide and set everything up before Allura hunts us down' that they unintentionally created. As a result, they had gotten incredibly skilled at quickly setting up the lighting, sound systems, and special effects needed for concerts, giving them some time to double and triple check the set-ups before being herded backstage. Apparently she had trouble believing that Pidge and Hunk's idea of mentally preparing themselves did not consist of listening to Lance's party playlist on repeat and watching Keith track Shiro's every movement with his eyes, as if he were afraid Shiro would spontaneously combust if left unattended.

(In Keith's defense, their very first concert was certainly rough on Shiro mentally and emotionally; it may have accidentally reinforced the idea.)

So caught up in her thoughts and checklists that Pidge barely noticed the noise in her headset had quieted considerably and the spotlight had turned off. What caught her attention though was the stage being flooded in a previously unused pink light. Pidge stared at the floor, wracking her mind for who could possibly be associated with the color pink; it wasn't Shiro, as he was associated with purple due to black not lighting up stages very well, and everyone else was associated with their Paladin color. The only person Pidge could connect to the color pink was Allura, and doing an impression of her when she was obviously searching for her and Hunk would be equivalent to flipping off a cop while simultaneously drunk and high; not the best idea and definitely the fastest way to dig yourself into a hole that reaches the center of the Earth, but since you're already in trouble go big or go home.

(Pidge could easily imagine Lance pretending to wipe away a tear in joy at her logic while, in the background, Keith gave his silent approval and Shiro silently wondered just where exactly he had gone wrong.)

Besides, Coran and Hunk wouldn't _intentionally_ set themselves up for punishment; from their vantage point they should easily be able to track Allura's movements. As for why they chose Allura, Pidge assumed that it was because she never had a chance to attempt it before and they were curious. Comforted by her reasoning Pidge adjusted her mike and fixed her stance; she'd have to pitch her voice higher for this one.

"Paladins please," the posh accent she used was a poor imitation of Allura, "We _must_ defeat Zarkon!"

Overall, Pidge was rather pleased with her impression. Minus the accent, it was rather accurate in her opinion. The lack of responses from the other end however had the doubt crawling up her spine like vines; usually they said _something_ by now. When the headset crackled to life Pidge breathed a sigh of relief, only to feel her blood run cold at the voice that spoke.

"Interesting interpretation Pidge," Allura's voice was as chilling and gentle as a winter breeze. "The accent could use some work however."

They really had to work on a proper Allura alert system.

* * *

Keith frowned as he stared at the puzzle cube in his hands, twisting and turning it in the hopes that a different angle would inspire him with the solution. It was dark grey, repeating in the numbers one through nine; Shiro called it a Sudoku Cube. After they had finished running through tonight's set Shiro had tossed it to him, explaining the rules and saying he wanted it done before they had to go on stage. Keith had shrugged, thinking that he could easily finish the puzzle with enough time to check in on Shiro's mental and emotional state and remind everyone to run through their parts until they were ragged. He hadn't accounted for the fact that a Sudoku Cube, while similar to a Rubik's Cube, followed the same rules as the paper version of Sudoku as well. Every time he thought he was making headway, he found a repeating number, forcing him to start over. The only thing stopping him from chucking the cube into the trashcan across the room was his stubbornness and innate desire to listen to Shiro. Keith hummed in contemplation as he tossed the toy into the air; the numbers were just stickers on the side, just like the colors of a Rubik's cube. Perhaps if he did it quietly enough, he could peel each sticker off, place them in the correct order without Shiro noticing, and get back to doing something actually important.

"Don't even think about it." Shiro's voice cut into his thoughts. Keith startled, fumbling with the cube for a moment before turning his head to look at Shiro. He sat against the other couch opposite of the lighted mirrors and chairs, flipping the page of a paperback Allura had lent him. The black pants he was wearing were pulled tight across his crossed legs, though not nearly as tightly as the white shirt hiding underneath the black denim jacket. Shiro shifted, causing the purple glitter that matched the sequins on the back of his jacket to shimmer.

Keith blinked, mustering every ounce of innocent naivety he could fake. "Think about what?"

"Pulling the stickers off the cube and then applying them correctly." Shiro looked up, meeting his gaze. "You had your 'I'm gonna look for a barely legal loophole and hope Shiro doesn't notice' face on."

"I have no such face."

"Yeah you do dude," Lance piped up, gently brushing blue glitter underneath his eyes. Keith narrowed his eyes at him, the fiery red spread underneath his eyes enhancing his annoyed appearance.

"Weren't you listening to your stupid pump-up playlist?" Keith growled, meeting Lance's gaze in the mirror. Lance smirked, setting his brush down and spinning in his chair to face Keith.

"Yeah, but I grew up with a bunch of siblings," Lance waggled his finger, "So I know exactly when someone's getting a scolding. It's like a sixth sense, ya know?"

The door opened harshly, interrupting the flow of the conversation and drawing everyone's attention. Hunk and Pidge entered, shoulders slumped forward with frowns on their faces. Immediately Shiro, Keith, and Lance directed their attention to their phones; Lance pumped his fist in the air, letting out a joyous shout as Keith tilted his head back and groaned.

"I'm guessing Keith lost again?" Hunk asked, rifling through the rack for his clothing for the night. He pulled out the smaller clothes and jacket, handing them to Pidge; she nodded her thanks, heading for the small bathroom to change.

"He has to be cheating!" Keith interjected, sitting upright. "There's no way someone is that good at guessing when two people are gonna get kicked out of something!"

"Au contraire, my friend with horrible fashion choices," Lance preened. "I am just naturally good at analyzing people, their past actions, and their current mood, and then applying it to current situations!"

"Sounds fake, but okay."

"I hope Allura wasn't too harsh on you and Pidge?" Shiro asked; Hunk threw the shirt he was wearing before into the pile, the black pants chosen for them all already pulled on.

"Well I mean, she kinda tore into me for messing around in the booth with Coran," Hunk said, reply muffled as he pulled on the assigned white shirt. "But that was like, _nothing_ compared to Pidge."

"My impression of her wasn't even that bad!" Pidge shouted, slamming open the door. "I mean yeah, the accent was off, but compare it to yours or Keith's? I went _easy_ on her."

Keith's offended noise did not go unnoticed by Shiro. "Easy or not, you should probably withhold from mocking your manager or teammates."

Pidge waved her hand as she plopped into her seat. "I'll keep that in mind. Lance, pull up my Heather Chandler playlist; I feel like channeling my inner mythic bitch tonight."

"One playlist for a dead bitch made of Teflon coming right up! Would you like that with or without headphones?"

"With," Pidge replied, applying her primer, "Otherwise Mr. Killjoy Dad Friend over there will go into one of his Heathers rants."

"I just think it has a terrible plot with incredibly unlikeable characters!" Shiro responded, setting his book down on the couch. Lance looked over at Shiro as he pushed Pidge's headphones in.

"Dude, I aspire to Heather Chandler's standards of beauty and fashion every day. Look myself in the mirror and ask myself, 'Lance, would Heather Chandler call you beautiful?' If the answer isn't yes, then I'm doing it wrong."

" _Well you know, you know, you know,"_ Hunk sang, patting his face dry, _"I think you're beautiful!"_

" _And when you're beautiful, it's a beautiful freaking day!"_ Lance turned to him, shaping his hands into a heart. Pidge rolled her eyes, mouth dropping open as she applied mascara. Keith glanced over at Shiro and, once satisfied that he appeared unstressed, turned back to his battle with the Sudoku Cube; he was not going to let a toy beat him damn it.

* * *

Shiro stood in the center of the room, surveying each of them; Lance was leaning back in his chair while Hunk and Pidge were straddling theirs, arms resting on the backs. Keith still sat on the couch he had first sat on, arms crossed over his chest as he glared at the unfinished Sudoku Cube Shiro had handed him a few hours ago. There were only a few minutes left until they had to head out to be onstage, and Shiro liked to use this time to do one final run through of the set they had prepared that night. While they couldn't fix any major problems, such as someone forgetting their lines or choreography, it helped put them into the right headspace before a performance.

"Alright team," Shiro said, clapping his hands to get their attention. "Just so we're all clear, who knows what set we're doing tonight?"

Lance's hand shot up, words hot on its trail. "We are doing the newly minted, freshly pressed, Hidgance set!"

"…Hidgance?" Keith asked after a moment's silence. Lance spun in his chair, so excited he didn't even both to try and make a jab.

"Yeah, you know, Pidge, Hunk, and me!"

"You got a problem with it?" Hunk asked, staring down Keith from behind Lance. While he knew there wasn't any malice in his voice or body posture, Keith still couldn't stop his posture from stiffening; Hunk got scary when he got protective.

Keith raised his hands up in surrender. "N-No, no, it's just…the name just, you know, took me by surprise. Wasn't expecting it."

Shiro snapped his fingers, bringing their attention back to him. "Let's focus. Now, what is the group formation?"

Pidge spoke up this time, "Lance in front, because he's the only one besides you here who knows what a stage presence is. Hunk on his right and me on his left; behind us are Keith on the right and you on the left. When we switch for song changes, we follow this figure eight sort of pattern, with Lance switching with me and then me switching with Hunk. The exception is for _Voltron_ , where you'll give your goodbye spiel and we all get into Voltron formation."

Shiro nodded. "Good, which brings me to my next question: what is the set list for tonight?"

"Oh that's easy! Our first portion is started off with our new triad song _Space Cadets_ , and then we go into our respective solos of _Wormhole_ , _Beta Traz_ , and _Ark of Taujeer_ , with the finale of part one being Pidge and I's duet _Hacker Society_." Hunk counted off each song on his fingers, continuing onto the second part. "Then Lance busts in with _Space Mall_ , followed with Pidge's _Masquerade_ and my _Hunger_ , and the second finale is Lance and I's _Bromance_."

"Which is arguably the best song in the entire set," Lance interjected; he caught Hunk's eyes and, sharing a grin, the two began to sing.

 _Boy you look so fine_

 _I just want you to give me a chance_

 _I'm not crossing any lines_

 _When I ask for a bromance_

Pidge rubbed at her temples, eyes narrowed at Hunk and Lance's beaming faces. "I still can't believe that's one of our songs. It sounds like a Lonely Island song and yet, here it is, forever on our discography with video evidence that we've actually performed it."

"Hey man, the fans _love_ it."

Shiro stepped forward, hands raised in a placating gesture towards Lance and Pidge. "Let's save the _Bromance_ discourse for after the show, alright? You wanna finish us off with act three big guy?"

"Right! So after _Bromance_ Pidge does _Searching for You_ , preceded by some cheesy line about bringing the romance back in bromance," Hunk ignored Lance's offended gasp. "Then Lance comes in with _Lovesick_ , followed by my _Tears of Balmera_ , and then Lance and Pidge finish up with _Social Media Butterfly_."

"And then we all come together in our big finish number Voltron." Shiro grinned, clapping his hands together. "Well done you guys! Let's head out."

Lance sprung from his chair with an energetic yell, using his momentum to bound across the room. He stood at the door, impatiently waiting for Hunk and Pidge as they leisurely strolled towards him. Shiro shook his head, chuckling at the scene; the bigger the event, the more excited Lance seemed to get no matter how many times they did it. He glanced over his shoulder, observing how Keith brought up the rear, hands stuffed in his pocket, the picture of unaffected nonchalance to the unobservant. After knowing Keith for so long however Shiro could see the minute tenseness in his shoulders, the way his eyes scanned the room for any hidden threats yet always came back to stare at Shiro.

"Hey," Keith snapped to attention, eyes zeroing in on Shiro approaching him. He relaxed marginally when Shiro placed his left hand on his shoulder, watching him with concern. "Everything alright?"

Keith shrugged, tearing his gaze away from dark grey eyes to stare at a random corner of the floor. "It's fine, just…you know."

Shiro nodded; memories of a bedraggled Keith weighed down with the self-assigned burden of carrying the team should anything go wrong in order to protect Shiro, looking as if he would snap at a moment's notice, sprung to his mind. Shiro made sure to take stock of Keith's appearance, noting that despite the obvious nervous body language he was displaying he looked well-rested and healthy; he gave a gentle squeeze to Keith's shoulder.

"I'm proud of you," Keith blinked, eyes darting up to meet Shiro's again. They were warm and kind, a soft grey that had his cheeks flushing a light pink. "You've come a long way since our first show."

Keith laid his hand atop Shiro's, fingers resting in the spaces between his. "So have you," He replied, a small smile on his face. He remembered Shiro at their first show; tense, stressed, and frozen like a deer caught in the headlights when the spotlight fell on him in front of that crowd, it was such a stark contrast to the relaxed and confident visage that stood before him.

"It's all thanks to them."

One of the referenced 'them' poked their head in, nervously keeping his eyes on the hallway. "Uh, not to interrupt your bonding moment or whatever, really, but I'm _pretty_ sure Lance is about to spontaneously combust from excitement if you two don't hurry up. And Pidge is willing to let it happen in the name of science."

Shiro laughed, removing his hand from Keith's shoulder to face the Yellow Paladin. "Alright Hunk, we'll be there soon." he said; Hunk nodded, ducking back out of the doorway. Shiro looked over his shoulder at Keith, grinning. "You ready Keith?"

Keith nodded, returning the grin. "Let's get this show on the road."

* * *

The arena was dark, the only light being provided were the glow sticks people carried in the hands and wore around their heads, necks, and wrists. The low buzz of multiple conversations occurring at the same time so closely together filled the air, drowning out the noises of the people shuffling backstage and ordering each other for last minute adjustments. People in the front began to scream, causing a ripple effect of cheers and applause as it spread backwards; if one squinted hard enough, perhaps they could make out vague figures in the shadows before the room was plunged into an even deeper blackness than before.

 _And now, the moment you've all been waiting for! Please give it up for…Voltron!_

Through the screams of the crowd the beginning of the song could be heard; it was a softer synthetic pop than one familiar with the genre would be used to, sounding more like a pop song with some synthetic elements. The rest of the instrumental was blocked out as a spotlight focused on Lance, leaving the others shrouded in darkness, causing the crowd's screams to increase in volume. Lance was looking down at the floor, biting his lower lip before his head jerked up, blue eyes large and accentuated by the blue glitter underneath them, a melancholic expression on his face as he began to sing.

 _Soaring passed the atmosphere_

 _One thing on my mind_

Pidge on his left was suddenly illuminated, looking down at the ground with the same expression. He looked out to the ground, reaching out to an unseen person.

 _Can't focus on that lonely star_

 _When I'm leaving you behind_

On Lance's right Hunk was illuminated, hands clasped in front of him as he stared at the ground. He brought them up to his heart as his eyes closed.

 _This may be my mission_

 _But girl it's you that I'm missin'_

Hunk, Lance, and Pidge linked hands, raising them up the ceiling as they raised their eyes up. They sang the next line in harmony, Hunk's strong bass supporting Lance and Pidge's duet.

 _Just a lonely space cadet_

Lights flooded the stage, finally revealing Keith and Shiro, the screams of the crowd finally reaching their peak as all five members had finally been revealed. All five glided forward, the start of the choreography for the first chorus going off in perfect harmony as all five voices sang.

 _Lonely little space cadet_

 _Travelin' 'cross the universe_

 _Lonely little space cadet_

 _With you on my mind!_

While all five only sang the first and third lines while Lance sang the others, their arms reaching out and sweeping in front of them moved in perfect sync. They pulled back, sweeping through their hair at the word 'mind', each of them tossing and rolling their heads, as if their minds really were weighed down by a nameless loved one. The other four immediately began their background support as Pidge sang the second part of the chorus, hand held over his heart as he walked across the stage.

 _No matter how many stars I traverse_

 _No matter how many planets I find_

 _I'll always be thinkin' 'bout you_

 _My home on Earth_

Hunk, Lance, and Pidge came together for the third line, with Keith and Shiro joining in for a five-part harmony for the final line. The crowd went wild, glow sticks waving wildly; the harmony had gone off without a single note out of place. Lance fought to keep the smile off his face in an effort to keep the somber atmosphere of the song, but he took comfort in knowing that he wasn't the only one to be struggling. As they orbited each other, Lance could see each of them working diligently to keep the upturns of the mouths hidden from the fans in the front row. It was hard though, Lance admitted as he began the second verse; on stage, heart pounding with excitement and the thrill of the performance, hundreds of eyes watching his every move, Lance was living the dream. Born the middle child to a family that immediately immigrated to America after his birth and began their struggle to make a life in a foreign world, Lance craved to have everyone's undivided attention on him. It was the reason behind a lot of his actions: why he was a jokester, why he wanted to go to college, wanted to become an astronaut, and finally ended up here. As long as he could get the world to stop and stare at him for just a moment, to _acknowledge_ him, he was willing to put his entire being into whatever he did for it to happen.

 _Lonely little space cadet_

 _I'm lost out in space_

 _Lonely little space cadet_

 _Dreamin' about your arms!_

Hunk's strong bass rang out, reaching into its highest register as he sang the second and fourth lines. He focused on the words, fighting against the urge to poke at the barely noticeable urge to vomit into the crowd; he knew that if he began to examine it, it would be unstoppable. While the rush of a performance didn't get him high like Lance though, he refused to let it pull him down into the inky depths of being physically ill. He was the Yellow Paladin of Voltron, the bass that provided the support for each of them to build and support each other as they reached for the higher notes. While he would have much rather preferred being backstage running and doing checks, he knew that without him the others would undoubtedly come crashing down; so he fought against every instinct using the tools and tips he had at his disposal, and sang.

 _After all these comets I'll chase_

 _Makin' sure I come to no harm (no harm)_

 _Because when I get back to Earth_

 _I wanna see your face_

Pidge steeled herself, singing the bridge between the second and third chorus as Lance and Hunk supported her, something cheesy about the main character in the song deciding to come back. If the song had played on the radio and she had a choice, Pidge would have already flipped the station to something more her taste; something more synthetic, or at least one of the alternative rock stations. At least her efforts to hide her grimace and cringing at the sappiness could be played off as her effortlessly acting as if she was in great emotional turmoil between following her dream and the love of her life.

 _Lonely little space cadet_

 _Riding a shooting star_

 _Lonely little space cadet_

 _Flying across the sky_

 _I'm comin' back to the place you are_

 _So baby girl don't you cry (Don't cry)_

 _Because when I get back to Earth_

 _I'll search the crowds for you_

 _I'll fall into your arms_

 _My home on Earth_

They finished in their final pose, hands reaching out to the audience; immediately the crowd broke into cheers and applause. Lance panted, lifting his shirt to pat some of the sweat off his forehead, causing some of the girls in the front row to scream at the sight of his stomach. He made sure to look down and shoot them a smile with finger guns, fanning the flames to keep the positive response going.

"Did you all like that?" Lance shouted out into the crowd; a thunderous roar was his reply, eliciting a laugh from the group. "Okay, it sounds like you guys _really_ liked that! Well don't worry, plenty more where that came from. In case you didn't know, that's off our newest album _Out of This World_. Check it out if you haven't already, and go buy it in the souvenir shop if you don't already own it!"

"Or download it online," Pidge spoke, pushing her glasses up her nose. Lance nodded vigorously, turning back to the crowd.

"Yeah, but make sure to do it _legally_. If any of you guys got in trouble well…" Lance sighed, placing the back of his hand against his forehead, "I just…I couldn't live with myself!"

Shouted promises to buy were heard, as well as pleas for Lance to not worry about them. Lance smiled, looking out across the sea of faceless people and various posters being held high into the air. He saw one that had his face drawn on it in a rather cartoonish manner, making his smile even wider.

"Hey, whoever's got the cartoon sign out there, I think you're tonight's poster winner." Lance pointed at the poster, causing hundreds of heads to turn in sync as people tried to catch a glimpse of this alleged poster. A 'we love you Lance' could be heard faintly in the back, most likely from the poster's owners.

"Love you guys too," Lance replied, blowing a kiss. "But, as much as I'd love to keep talking to you all, we gotta get a move on. After all, tonight's show is _very_ special; we're debuting our brand spankin' new Hidgance set! So Pidge, if you'd be so kind to keep the ball rolling."

"With pleasure Lance," Pidge replied, stepping forward into the leader spot that Lance had vacated for her. Already she could feel her entire demeanor change, both physically and mentally; she may just be the Green Paladin, but this song was all hers.

"Alright guys, who's ready for some _real_ music?" Pidge shouted, pumping her fist into the air. "It's an oldie but a goodie, and my personal favorite; let's get ready to _Wormhole_!"

* * *

The door to the dressing room burst open as Pidge launched herself onto the couch, bouncing a few times before settling. She managed to collect all the pillows and wrap herself into a tight blanket cocoon as Hunk shot his way to the bathroom, door slamming shut behind him; the sounds of retching could soon be heard. Shiro and Keith stumbled in, both in varying stages of exhaustion, while Lance glided through the air, settling down in one of the make-up chairs primly.

"I think we really outdid ourselves guys!" Lance preened, fixing his pristine make-up in the mirror. "I mean did you hear that crowd? They loved the new Hidgance set!"

"Pidge move over, I wanna sit down."

Shiro sat with a heavy sigh, leaning back into the other couch. "I will admit, Allura and I had some reservations, but it really went off without a hitch."

Pidge's head popped out from the blankets to glare at Keith. "Fuck no, unlike _some_ introverts here I actually did something tonight. Get your own couch."

Lance peered over at the bathroom. "Hunk, buddy? You need me to get you anything? Glass a water, maybe your meds?"

"Pidge I swear to God I _will_ sit on you."

"Naw I'm good," Hunk shakily replied, voice muffled by the door. "Just gimme like…a minute. Let my stomach settle while I brush my teeth, ya know?"

"Bitch I'd like to see you try." Pidge shot back; she promptly shrieked as Keith plopped down on top of her, a smug smirk on his face. " _Shiro_ , tell Keith to get his bony flat ass off of me!"

"Alright, but just holler if you need anything."

Shiro sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Keith, stop antagonizing Pidge and come over here if you want to sit down. Pidge, try not to get glitter on the couch, unless you want Allura to punish us."

Keith crossed his arms, glaring down at Pidge. "It's the principle of the matter Shiro; Pidge needs to learn to share. Plus, Hunk should sit somewhere comfortable."

Pidge sputtered as Hunk came out of the bathroom, rubbing his stomach. "Oh look who's talking, Mr. I'mma-Hog-All-Your-Pillows-If-They're-On-My-Bunk! And Shiro, I will gladly go down if that means I'm taking _this_ asshole with me."

Shiro leaned his head back, staring up at the ceiling as if it held the answers to this argument. Hunk dug through his bag, looking for one of his post-show snacks as he spoke. "Keith, don't worry about it; I'll just move Pidge myself to make room."

Pidge laughed, sticking her tongue out at Keith; Keith gave her a final glare before pushing off, making sure to press extra hard. He smirked at Pidge's yelp, settling in next to Shiro and adjusting himself until he was curled into a ball at the edge of the couch. Hunk easily lifted Pidge's legs, placing himself at the end of the couch with a comfortable sigh, head tipped back in comfort. This was arguably each of their favorite time through the whole concert ordeal; the chance to relax in the same room as each other, doing whatever they wanted to relax, basking in the glow of a show well done. The energy was always mellow, even in Lance's case as every atom in his body vibrated with excess energy. The only way that the mood could be disturbed would be if Allura came in, face flushed with excitement as she debriefed them on the crowd's reactions, or if they had VIP fans who were allowed a few minutes to meet with the group; the knocking at the door signified the latter, as Allura usually burst in unannounced.

"Coming," Lance sang, skipping to the door as the others watched him with expressions ranging from amusement to something vaguely resembling horror. How he managed to continue being so energetic even after giving a powerhouse performance was beyond them; Keith grumbled something about energy vampires as Shiro patted his head in comfort. Lance checked his clothes and hair before opening the door wide, leaning against the doorframe with _just_ enough tilt that his shirt rode up and offered a tantalizing glimpse of the shining brown beneath.

"Well hello there ladies." Lance purred, offering a flirty smirk. "How are we doing this fine night?"

The two girls stood stunned in front of the door, a blonde decked in official Blue Paladin gear while the brunette was decked in Red Paladin clothes. Both of their faces were flushed, although Lance was pretty sure the girl dressed in his colors had stopped breathing. Lance pouted, tilting his head to the side and fluttering his eyelashes innocently.

"What's wrong? Do I offend?" Lance pulled at his shirt, looking down. "I probably should've changed before you came; you don't mind if I take it off now, do you?"

"No not at all." the blonde breathed; her friend elbowed her roughly as she hissed her name. Normally Lance would have caught the name, however as soon as she had said it he had been clocked in the back of the head with something firm but soft.

He spun around, spotting the offending paperback lying on the ground. "Alright, which one of you did that?"

Unanimously, each of them pointed at Pidge, who looked as if she hadn't moved at all. However, her hand was raised in the air, clearly taking blame for what had happened. Lance narrowed his eyes, bending down to pick up the paperback.

"You could at least _act_ ashamed."

"Yeah well, some of us don't wanna see a striptease, but we can't all get what we want."

Shiro sighed, pushing himself off the couch to greet the girls with a warm smile. "Ignore them; they always get like this when Lance flirts. I hope you two enjoyed the show?"

The girl dressed in Keith's colors straightened up. "O-Of course! It was great, amazing even! Getting the privilege to see a new set being debuted is great, especially since Caitlyn-oh, that's Caitlyn," She said, gesturing to the blonde behind her, "And my name is Meghan, but anyway, Caitlyn is a _huge_ fan of Lance!"

Lance's eyes lit up with mischief as he sidled up to Caitlyn. "Oh, is that so? Well, no need to be shy, I don't bite." Lance smirked, a hint of sharp canine showing. "Unless of course, you _want_ me to."

A high pitched, strangled, stuttered mess of unintelligible words left Caitlyn's mouth, face as red as Meghan's shirt. While he spoke, Lance had wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer to his side; she was far from uncomfortable, if her star struck facial expression was anything to go by. Even Meghan was affected, face flushed heavily and as her breathing quickened, eyes trained on Lance and her friend. Lance slid in between the two girls, leaning in conspiratorially towards Meghan.

"Of course, since you're more of a Keith fan, I feel obligated to warn you; he _does_ bite. Quite hard, if I do say so myself."

He locked eyes with Keith, making sure to keep his best shit-eating grin on his face; he spoken loud enough that he knew Keith would hear him, yet still kept that air of confidentiality between him and Meghan. Judging by the way Meghan seemed paralyzed as her eyes darted to look at Keith, he would say that so far things were going quite according to plan. Now, as long as Keith took the bait…

"That was _one_ time!"

Hook, line and sinker.

Lance sniffed, pouting and making sure his voice at a slight warble to it as he spoke. "Yeah, and you left such vicious marks, right where everyone could see! Don't you know how embarrassed I was having to explain them away to people?"

The incident that Lance was referencing had occurred relatively early on in the career, when everyone was still learning each other's quirks. Shiro had shared some of his life before becoming an idol, mentioning that friends had called him a 'grandpa' and that, when paired with Keith's prickly attitude yet fondness for Shiro, had dubbed Keith 'his asshole cat'. Looking back, Lance wasn't sure what exactly made him think it was a good idea, but at the time he thought he should see if Keith, like all cats, enjoyed having his chin scratched. So, against the better judgement of everyone else, he had snuck up on Keith while sleeping, reached under his chin and began to scratch, and had promptly gotten viciously bit on the hand. It gave Lance a fun story to tell to fans though, although he tended to leave out the context and embellish a few details, leaving them to fill in the blanks based on his words and Keith's reactions. If they happened to imagine something a little more intimate with a lot less clothing then Lance certainly wasn't going to stop them; free speech, will, and all that jazz, right?

Keith growled, eyes narrowing to slits. "Well maybe if you _listened_ , and kept your hands to _yourself_ , it wouldn't have happened."

Out of the corner of his eyes, Lance could see the girls transfixed by the conversation occurring in front of them, red faces a sign that they were probably having less than innocent thoughts at the moment. Meanwhile, Keith hadn't caught onto the game Lance was playing; usually when he had, his own face would flush alongside angrily stuttered promises to get back at Lance. Before Lance could see just how far he could stretch this one, Shiro gave a disapproving stare, arms crossed over his chest.

"I think that's enough Lance. Why don't we let the girls tell us what they want so that they can go home? I'm sure they're very tired."

Lance shrugged, releasing both of them; the spell he had on them was instantly broken. Meghan was the first to recover, as Caitlyn still stood in a Lance-induced daze.

"Oh no no no, don't worry about us! We've got tons of energy still! It's you guys who are probably really tired, and we're just here, keeping you awake as if you aren't super busy and tired!"

Shiro chuckled, smiling warmly at the girls. "Well, what can we do for you?"

Meghan twisted her small backpack to the front of her body, ruffling through it. She began pulling out various posters of them from different magazines, as well as pens to sign them with. "W-Well, we were hoping to, you know, get autographs, maybe a photo together? I-If you have the time of course, no pressure!"

"Specifically a picture together with Lance and Keith!" Caitlyn shouted; the group stilled, staring at her. She flushed a darker shade of red, hiding more behind Meghan. "I-If, um, i-if they want to, o-obviously."

Pidge grinned, sitting up so that the blankets fell from her shoulders. "Oh, you want the Klance special?"

Lance pouted, glaring at Pidge as Caitlyn and Meghan nodded enthusiastically behind him. "Pidge stop calling it that."

"I'll stop calling it that when it stops trending on Twitter."

"Anyway, do you girls have more than one pen?" Shiro asked, taking the offered pen and pictures of himself. Meghan nodded, digging through the bag and producing multiple pens. She handed them to Lance who, after taking his pictures, passed them and the other pictures around the room.

"Oh hey, how do you spell your names? I mean, they seem simple enough, but the way I spell it and you spell it is probably different you know? Not to mention some of the _really_ different ways people spell them." Hunk asked, rubbing the back of his neck; Caitlyn and Meghan acquiesced, spelling out their names. Pidge groaned, tilting her head back against the couch.

"Ugh, are you talking about that time we met someone named David, except instead of a 'v' they used an 'f' and 'y', _and_ had two 'd's at the end? Also Lance, what lines are you using?"

"Actually I was thinking more of the time we met someone named Sydney, except she spelled her name with a 'c' and two 'e's."

Lance grinned, finishing his signature with a flourish. "Well, for my dear Caitlyn here, I've written that her beauty outshines the brightest star in our galaxy, which is nothing short of the truth." he gave a wink, moving on to reading Meghan's. "As for Meghan, I wrote that if I were da Vinci, she'd be my Mona Lisa."

Keith looked up, handing the posters over to Shiro to hand back to the girls. "The one that pisses me off the most is people who name their kids after actual countries. Like forget the terrible misspellings, why would you name your kid _Syria_? Just doesn't make sense."

Hunk nodded in agreement as Pidge furiously wrote out her responses. "Oh good, you chose easy ones for me to ruin." She handed hers back to Caitlyn and Meghan, smiling. "In case you can't read my chicken scratch for you, Caitlyn, it says that the brightest star in our galaxy is Sirius. As for you Meghan, I wrote that the subject of the Mona Lisa has never been found to be a lover of da Vinci. In fact, a lot of historians argue over whether he was actively homosexual or a celibate homosexual. Personally reading into the topic and his notes and letters, I feel like he is clearly stating that he's asexual, although he might be aesthetically attracted to men-"

"Pidge you're rambling again." Hunk prodded Pidge in the shoulder; she blinked, flushing lightly. She muttered out an apology while the others handed their posters back to Meghan and Caitlyn. Shiro headed over to the door, opening it and sticking his head out; quiet talking could be heard between him and the security guard, most likely trying to get him to take the group picture. Shiro stepped aside, allowing the large man in the black t-shirt to step into the room.

"Alright, Dave here said he's willing to take the group shot, so hand him your phones."

A chorus of thanks could be heard around the room; Dave merely raised his hand, brushing them aside as if they weren't needed, thought the small smile showed they were appreciated. Light discussions were held on how many phones should be given, and it was soon decided that Caitlyn and Lance's phones would be used and the photos would be distributed via text to the appropriate people. They grouped together similar to their Voltron formation, Shiro in the middle with Keith on his immediate right and Pidge on his immediate left; behind Keith stood Lance, arms slung over shoulders, and behind Pidge stood Hunk. Crouched in front of the group were Caitlyn and Meghan, hands held up in a 'V', bright smiles on their faces. After the digital shutters were heard the group dispersed; Shiro took the cameras from Dave, offering a quiet thanks.

Shiro turned around, lifting up Meghan's phone first. "Alright guys, get together nice and close now."

Lance grinned, slinging an arm around Caitlyn and Keith's shoulders and bringing them in closer. Both let out surprised noises, Caitlyn flushing once again as Keith loosened Lance's grip on his shoulder with a glare. Before he could enjoy his minor amount of freedom he felt Meghan press up against his right side, clinging to the fabric of his jacket sleeve. He sighed, putting on his best photoshoot smile as Shiro took the pictures; Shiro offered him an apologetic smile from behind the camera. Once finished, Shiro handed back the phones, Meghan releasing Keith to look at the photos on Caitlyn's phone. Lance hummed in thought, staring at the photo they had just taken, his arm still wrapped around Caitlyn's shoulder.

"Selfie time," Lance sang, snagging Keith around the shoulders again and pressing them even closer than before.

"What did I _just_ say about keeping your hands to yourself?"

Lance hummed, turning on the front-facing camera; he watched as Meghan popped into the bottom with Caitlyn, the two girls scrunching together. "Dunno, wasn't paying that close attention."

"Then allow me to remind you later tonight."

He had to say this _just_ right to get the reaction he wanted for this picture. "Mm, punish me however you want; I'm all yours."

Keith's cheeks filled bright red, and with a wink and quick press of a button, it was forever immortalized before he had a chance to push away. Lance immediately made a mad dash for the door, cackling the entire way with Keith hot on his heels. Even once the two had made it out the door and farther down the hall Lance could still be heard laughing like a madman while Keith threatened him loudly, leaving the two fans staring in shock at the door.

Shiro sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I apologize for those two. Again, thank you very much for coming; Dave can show you out."

The two nodded, exiting the room cautiously as if they were expecting more madness. Shiro offered them a final friendly wave before turning back around the room, hands placed firmly on his hips.

"Alright Pidge, now let's…" Shiro stopped, blinking as he realized he was talking to an empty room. He zeroed in on a post-it note on the cover of the book; he picked it up, immediately recognizing Hunk's large letters and Pidge's scratchy writing.

 _Sorry Shiro, gotta go help Coran strike the stage!_

 _Shiro: Got no time to talk, I'm a dead girl walking!_

Shiro plopped onto the couch he previously occupied, staring up at the ceiling as if it could offer him strength to wrangle his band mates. Sighing in defeat, he picked up the book and began to read once again; at least _one_ of them was gonna be there when Allura came in for debriefing.

* * *

 **A/N: This was requested by the lovely 14fox! I hope it was to your standards! And yes, if there's something you want to see, let me know!**


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